NIGHT  CAMP:,  AND  THE  PII.OKIM  HAND,  NOW  IN  A  VAST  AND  UNKNOWN  WILDERNESS, 

WENT    INTO   CAMP   AND   KINDlJil)   A   WATCHFIKE. 


THE   PILGEIMS 


A  STORY  OF  MASSACHUSETTS 


BY 


AUTHOR  OF  "COLUMBIA,"  "KSTEVAN,"  "ST.  AUGUSTINK," 
"POCAHONTAS,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATIONS   BY    F.    A.    CARTER 


¥orfc 

FUNK   &   WAGNALLS   COMPANY 
LONDON  AND  TORONTO 

1894 
Printed  in  the   United  States, 


T 


P  5' 


COPYRIGHT,  1893,  BY  THE 
FUNK  &  WAGNALLS    COMPANY 


[Registered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London,  Eng.] 


tro 

THOSE   BELOVED   AND    PLEASING   CHILDREN, 

ORA   AND    HAZEL   MUSICK, 

THIS   BOOK 
IS   AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED 

BY 
THEIR  FATHER 


PREFACE. 


THIS  volume  is  designed  to  cover  the  history 
of  New  England,  in  the  form  of  a  story,  from 
1620  to  1644,  the  period  at  which  the  New  England 
colonies  formed  their  first  confederation  for  mutual 
protection.  Mathew  Stevens,  a  youth  born  at  St. 
Augustine  of  Spanish  and  French  parents,  had 
been  abducted  and  carried  to  England,  in  the  year 
1586,  by  Sir  Francis  Drake,  and  was  there  pur 
chased  by  Mr.  John  Robinson,  who  "had  compas 
sion  on  the  child,"  and  brought  him  up  "in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord. "  Thus  Mathew  Stevens  (Mattheo 
Estevan) ,  though  born  of  a  Catholic  father,  became 
an  English  Puritan.  By  transferring  the  Estevan 
family  from  Florida  to  England,  they  are  changed 
from  Spanish  to  English,  without  breaking  the 
lineal  descent  from  the  first  youth  who  sailed  with 
Columbus  to  Mathew  Stevens  the  young  Puritan. 


vi  PREFACE. 

His  romantic  adventures  and  singular  love  affair 
form  the  chief  groundwork  for  this  story. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  have  a  better  idea 
of  the  Pilgrims  and  their  peculiar  persecutions,  the 
story  opens  with  their  flight  into  Holland.  Just 
a  glimpse  of  their  life  in  Ley  den  is  given,  and  they 
are  hastened  on  board  the  Mayflower,  where  will 
be  found  as  full  and  accurate  an  account  of  their 
memorable  voyage  as  can  be  given  without  weary 
ing  one  with  useless  detail.  Though  the  Pilgrims 
and  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  form  the  main 
features  of  the  story,  it  embraces  the  history  of 
North  America  from  the  time  at  which  the  novel 
"Pocahontas"  left  off,  to  the  year  when  the  col 
onies  of  New  England  were  united. 

JOHN  E.  MUSICK. 
KIRKSVILLE,  Mo.,  June  1st,  1892. 


TABLE    OF   COSTTEOTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

THE  CAPTURE  AND  ESCAPE, 1 

CHAPTER  II. 
MATHEW  AND  HANS 26 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  MAYFLOWER 45 

CHAPTER  IV. 
PLYMOUTH  ROCK, ^i> 

CHAPTER  V. 
DEATH  OF  ROSE  STANDISH, 88 

CHAPTER  VI. 
ALICE, 105 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  GROWING  HEMISPHERE, 121 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  SKELETON  IN  THE  CLOSET, 138 

CHAPTER  IX. 

MATHEW  MEETS  AN  OLD  FRIEND,          .        .        .        .155 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAGE 

THE  RIVAL  OP  MILES  STANDISH, 172 

CHAPTER  XI. 
ROGER  WILLIAMS 189 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  SOLDIER  FINDS  WORK 210 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
GOOD  FOR  EVIL, 225 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
FIRE  AND  SWORD, 243 

CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  HARTFORD  CONVENTION, 260 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  MISCHIEF  MAKER 272 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
MARYLAND 290 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
SEEKING  THE  LOST, 311 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
DAY  DAWNS,  . , 328 

CHAPTER  XX. 
CONCLUSION, 346 

HISTORICAL  INDEX, 361 

CHRONOLOGY,    ....  .  369 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


P1OK 

"Night  came,  and  the  Pilgrim  band,  now  in  a  vast 
and  unknown  wilderness,  went  into  camp 
and  kindled  a  watch-fire"  (see  page  68) ,  Frontispiece 

Pilgrim  standing  in  the  pillory, 1 

It  was  quite  evident  that  they  feared  pursuit,       .         .  3 

"By  the  mass,  it  is  a  Puritan  in  arms  !"       .         .         .  14 

"Do  you  want  your  liberty  V" 22 

They  were  seated  before  the  cheerful  peat  fire,     .         .  44 

Francis  Billington, 57 

"Help  me  out!     'Tisatrap!" 73 

Indian  huts, 78 

He  paused  for  her  answer 117 

The  Hollanders  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  alarmed 

at  his  threats, 127 

"What  troubles  you,  Matthew?" 143 

"Prythee,  John,  why  do  you  not  speak  for  yourself?  ''  184 

He  took  shelter  in  a  hollow  tree, 206 

"Go,  Roger  Williams,  fly  at  once!"     .         .         .         .207 

Endicott, 218 

Indian  maiden  beating  hominy, 223 

The  door  of  mercy  was  shut, 256 

Roger  Williams'  house  and  Indian  chief's  grave,        .  259 

Davenport 263 

Strange  emotions  swayed  his  soul  as  he  lifted  the  lid,  285 
The  whole  company  followed  Calvert  and  the  priests 

in  procession,    .......  306 

"You— you  are  her  father!" 339 

"God  be  praised,  day  dawns  at  last !"          .         .         .  345 

Map  of  the  period, 292 


THE  PILGRIMS. 


CIIAPTEK  I. 

THE    CAPTURE    AND    ESCAPE. 

Why  do  these  steeds  stand  ready  dight? 
Why  watch  these  warriors  armed  by  night? 
They  watch  to  hear  the  blood -hound  baying, 
They  watch  to  hear  the  war-horn  braying. 

— SCOTT. 

T  the  close  of  a  dreary  day 
in  March,  1608,  two  pedes 
trians  were   passing  along 
one   of    those   lonely   and 
unused  roads  in  an  unfrequented 
heath  in  Lincolnshire.    The  hour 
was  a  little  past  twilight  and  the 
western    sky  presented    an  un 
usual,   if    not   an   ominous,  ap 
pearance.      A  sharp  and  melan 
choly   breeze  was   abroad,   and 
the  sun,  which  had  become 
lost  in  a  mass  of  red  clouds, 
half  angry  and  half  placid 
in  appearance,  had  for  some 
brief    space    gone    down. 
Over  from  the  north,  how- 


2  THE  PILGRIMS. 

ever,  glided,  by  imperceptible  degrees,  a  long  black 
bar,  right  across  the  place  of  the  sun's  disappear 
ance,  and  nothing  could  be  more  striking  than  the 
wild  and  unnatural  contrast  between  the  dying  crim 
son  of  the  west  and  the  fearful  mass  of  impenetrable 
darkness  that  came  over  it.  There  was  no  moon 
and  the  portion  of  light,  or  rather  "darkness 
visible,"  that  feebly  appeared  on  the  sky  and  land 
scape,  was  singularly  sombre  and  impressive,  if 
not  actually  appalling.  The  scene  about  the  pedes 
trians  was  wild  and  desolate  in  the  extreme,  and 
as  the  faint  outlines  of  the  blasted  heaths  appeared 
in  the  dim  and  melancholy  distance,  the  feelings 
they  were  calculated  to  inspire  were  those  of  dis 
comfort  and  depression.  On  either  side  of  the 
travellers  was  a  variety  of  lonely  lakes,  abrupt 
precipices,  and  extensive  marshes,  and  as  they  jour 
neyed  along,  the  hum  of  the  snipe,  the  feeble  but 
mournful  cry  of  the  plover,  and  the  wilder  and  more 
piercing  whistle  of  the  curlew  seemed  to  deepen 
the  melancholy  dreariness  of  the  situation,  adding 
to  the  anxiety  of  the  travellers  to  press  onward. 

They  gathered  their  cloaks  more  closely  about 
them  and  drew  their  steeple-crowned  hats  low  over 
their  faces  as  the  bleak  March  winds  swept  across 
the  dismal  heath.  Each  carried  a  stout  staff  in  his 
hand;  but  no  other  arms  were  perceptible.  The 
elder  was  about  forty-eight  years  of  age,  and  the 


THE   CAPTURE   AND    ESCAPE.  3 

younger  not  over  thirty-three.  There  was  a  dig 
nity  and  clerical  manner  about  them,  which  at 
once  marked  them  as  ministers  of  the  Gospel. 


IT   WAS   QUITE    EVIDENT    THAT    THEY    FEARED    PURSUIT. 


Their  quick,  nervous  steps  and  the  watchful 
glances,  which  from  time  to  time  they  cast  about 
them,  made  it  quite  evident  that  they  feared 
pursuit, 


4  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"We  shall  soon  beat  the  Humber,  Mr.  Brew- 
ster,"  the  younger  of  the  twain  encouragingly 
remarked. 

"So  we  shall,"  Brewster  answered,  "and  I  trust 
that  God  will  guard  us  from  the  enemy,  that  we 
may  plant  the  vine  out  of  Egypt." 

Eobinson  listened  for  a  moment,  as  if  expect 
ing  to  hear  the  roll  of  Pharaoh's  chariots,  and 
remarked: 

"  We  seem  to  have  escaped. "  After  a  moment's 
silence,  Brewster  added: 

"Ah!  Mr.  Eobinson,  it  is  hard  to  be  thus 
driven  out  of  our  own  land  and  forced  to  go  and 
dwell  among  strangers.  Sad  is  the  day  when 
we  cannot  worship  God  according  to  our  own 
conscience." 

"The  Lord's  will  be  done,"  answered  Mr.  Rob- 
inson.  John  Kobinson,  the  pastor  of  the  Pilgrim 
church  in  England,  afterward  at  Leyden,  was  the 
personification  of  patience  and  Christian  resigna 
tion.  William  Brewster,  his  companion  in  ban 
ishment,  was  at  times  despondent  and  ready  to  give 
up  in  despair,  and,  but  for  Eobinson,  the  church 
organization  would  no  doubt  have  gone  to  pieces 
in  the  dark  days  of  1608.  Thoroughly  imbued 
with  religious  thought,  with  a  faith  as  firm  as  old 
Plymouth  Rock,  he  believed  that  the  clouds  were 
never  so  dark  that  the  sun  did  not  shine  brightly 


THE   CAPTURE   AND   ESCAPE.  5 

hey  on  d,  for  God  never  deserts  his  own.  John 
Robinson  was  born  to  lead.  He  was  of  that  stuff 
of  which  martyrs  are  made,  and  while  the  king, 
through  his  officials,  was  harassing  the  Pilgrims, 
Robinson  was  ever  cheerful,  ever  happy,  and 
praised  God  continually. 

"Our  gathering  place  is  in  sight, "remarked  Mr. 
Brewster  as  they  came  upon  a  part  of  the  heath 
near  the  mouth  of  the  H umber.  "Behold,  the 
vessel  rides  at  anchor  to  bear  the  exiles  from  their 
native  shores." 

"God  wills  it,"  reverently  answered  Robinson. 

An  assembly  of  men,  women  and  children  were 
gathered  on  the  heath  near  the  river.  Beneath 
some  blasted  trees,  which  tossed  their  barren 
branches  against  the  leaden  sky,  were  piled  the 
household  effects  of  the  Pilgrims.  That  gathering 
was  composed  of  simple  farmers  and  mechanics. 
Not  a  man  of  gentle  blood  was  among  them.  Not 
a  man  of  prominence,  or — if  we  exclude  Brewster 
and  Robinson — of  more  than  mediocre  ability,  was 
in  that  assemblage,  yet  among  them  were  the  seeds 
of  a  mighty  nation.  Giants  in  intellect  sprang 
from  those  humble  farmers  and  tradesmen  to  the 
confusion  of  the  doctrine  of  inherited  genius. 

The  Pilgrim  leaders  were  greeted  with  low  mur 
murs  of  welcome  from  the  assembled  band.  No 
one  dared  speak  in  a  loud  tone,  lest  some  of  the 


6  THE   PILGRIMS. 

king's  spies  or  soldiers  might  be  within  hearing. 
The  dreary  and  desolate  night  slowly  spread  its  sable 
mantle  over  the  scene.  Persons  of  all  ages  were 
assembled  on  the  banks  of  the  Huinber,  from  the 
infant  at  its  mother's  breast,  to  the  gray-haired 
patriarch,  who  only  awaited  the  call  of  his  Master 
to  depart  to  the  echoless  shore  from  whence  there 
is  no  return.  Three  or  four  of  the  younger  chil 
dren  were  feebly  wailing  under  the  cloaks  with 
which  they  were  muffled,  while  the  older  ones 
stood  shivering,  but  uncomplaining,  beneath  the 
blasted  trees. 

"We  are  all  here,  Mr.  Kobinson,"  said  a  Pil 
grim,  as  the  pastor  came  upon  the  scene. 

"Has  the  boat  come  ashore?" 

"It  has,  and  the  officers  are  anxious  for  us  to 
embark,  as  they  fear  the  king's  soldiers." 

"Where  is  Mathew,  Mr.  Kobinson?"  asked  Wil 
liam  Bradford. 

"We  left  him  on  the  heath  as  a  guard  to  give 
us  warning  of  the  approach  of  the  king's  sol 
diers." 

"I  wish  we  were  safe  on  board,"  remarked  Mr. 
Carver.  "My  wife  and  babe  suffer  in  this  bleak 
March  wind." 

"Many  will,  I  fear,  get  their  death,"  sadly  an 
swered  Mr.  Eobinson. 

At  this  moment  the  master  of  the  ship  which 


THE   CAPTURE   AND   ESCAPE.  7 

was  to  bear  them  to  Holland  came  up  and  in  his 
rough,  sailor  way  declared: 

"  We  must  be  gone  from  the  harbor  at  once,  or 
the  king's  ships  may  intercept  my  vessel.  Will 
you  never  be  ready  to  go  aboard?" 

Mr.  Kobinson,  who  was  temporal  as  well  as 
spiritual  leader,  called  to  the  men: 

"Come,  bestir  yourselves.  Get  those  household 
effects  aboard,  and  then  we  will  take  the  women 
and  children." 

Some  dry  fagots  had  been  gathered  and  a  fire 
kindled  in  the  lower  grounds,  around  which  the 
women  and  children  crowded  for  warmth.  The 
lire  being  in  the  lowest  part  of  the  landscape,  it 
was  hoped  that  it  would  not  be  seen  by  their  watch 
ful  enemies.  While  the  women  with  their  shiver 
ing  children  sought  thus  to  instil  some  warmth  into 
their  bodies,  the  men  busied  themselves  in  carry 
ing  aboard  their  worldly  effects.  There  were  many 
family  relics  there,  many  precious  heirlooms, 
valueless  in  themselves,  yet  sacred  to  the  owners, 
for  some  recollection  they  retained. 

"Whose  oaken  chest  is  this?"  asked  Mr.  Brad 
ford,  pausing  by  an  ancient-looking  piece  of  fur 
niture. 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke.  It  was  a  curious 
chest,  evidently  not  of  English  make.  The  lid 
was  heavy  and  strong,  as  if  it  were  made  to  hold 


8  THE  PILGRIMS. 

treasures.  The  quaint  old  lock  which  had  been 
broken  was  such  as  would  excite  the  wonder  of  a 
modern  locksmith.  It  had  two  handles,  one  at 
either  end,  strongly  made  of  bands  of  steel. 

"Whose  oaken  chest  is  this?"  Bradford  again 
asked. 

"It  is  the  property  of  our  pastor,  Mr.  Kobin- 
son,"  Stephen  Hopkins  answered. 

"I  never  saw  such  curious  handiwork.  He 
surely  kept  it  concealed." 

"Perhaps  it  is  a  sacred  relic." 

"It  was  not  made  in  England." 

"  No,  I  have  heard  that  it  came  from  the  Span 
ish  colonies  in  America." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  im 
patient  master  of  the  vessel,  saying: 

"  Haste,  we  have  just  received  information  that 
a  party  of  the  king's  horse  has  started  to  intercept 
us." 

"Is  this  your  chest,  Mr.  Eobinson?"  asked 
Bradford  of  the  pastor  who  came  along  at  that 
moment. 

"Yes — no — that  is,  it  belongs  to  my  foster-son, 
Mathew." 

"  Where  did  he  get  it?"  asked  the  inquisitive 
Stephen  Hopkins. 

"Haste,  friend  Hopkins,  never  mind  the  chest." 

"You  can  tell  us,  even  as  we  carry  it  aboard." 


THE   CAPTURE  AND   ESCAPE.  9 

"  It  was  brought  by  Sir  Francis  Drake  from  St. 
Augustine.  That  is  sufficient  for  the  present;  at 
some  future  time  I  may  tell  you  the  story  of  that 
oaken  chest,  but  we  have  not  time  now.  Make 
thee  haste,  and  get  everything  aboard." 

The  energetic  pastor,  assisted  by  his  ruling 
elder,  Mr.  William  Brewster,  was  everywhere, 
urging  the  men  to  extra  exertion.  They  even 
carried  some  of  the  heaviest  articles  themselves,  for 
Robinson  and  Brewster  were  physical  as  well  as 
moral  giants.  Each  possessed  a  constitution  unim 
paired  by  dissipation  and  hardened  by  exposure. 
All  the  Pilgrims  worked  steadily,  and  the  loading 
went  rapidly  on. 

Save  their  household  effects  and  a  few  tools, 
there  was  little  else  to  carry  aboard  the  ship. 
Piled  under  one  of  the  leafless  trees,  through  the 
barren  branches  of  which  the  night  wind  sighed  a 
mournful  requiem,  were  the  arms  and  armor  of 
the  Pilgrims,  for  each  Pilgrim  was  a  soldier  in 
defence  of  his  civil  and  religious  liberties.  Half 
a  hundred  of  those  quaint  old  guns,  called  match 
locks,  rarely  seen  at  this  day,  even  in  the  mu 
seums,  leaned  against  the  tree. 

The  match-lock  was  still  in  general  use  at  that 
day,  for  the  wheel -lock  never  did  fully  supplant  it. 
It  was  an  improvement  over  the  arquebus,  as  it 
was  provided  with  a  cock  in  which  a  match  was 


10  THE   PILGRIMS. 

kept.  It  was  also  provided  with  a  pan,  covered 
by  a  bit  of  steel  to  protect  the  powder.  Before 
firing  his  musket,  the  soldier  had  to  blow  the 
ashes  off  his  match,  and  open  his  pan.  The  gun 
called  the  snaphance,  or  flint-lock,  though  invented 
at  this  time,  had  not  come  into  general  use.  In 
addition  to  the  guns  and  a  few  pistols,  there  were 
many  jacks  of  mail,  swords  and  rapiers,  with  belts, 
corsets,  breasts  and  backs,  culets,  gorgets,  tasses 
and  head-pieces,  all  varnished  black,  with  leathers 
and  strong  buckles,  piled  in  promiscuous  confu 
sion  about  the  root  of  the  tree.  One  to  gaze  upon 
the  warlike  array  of  arms  and  protective  armor, 
could  hardly  suppose  that  they  were  the  property 
of  a  band  of  churchmen. 

The  sailors  of  the  vessel  were  indolent  fellows, 
and  refused  to  aid  the  Pilgrims  to  get  their  goods 
on  board  the  vessel.  Having  served  with  Drake 
and  Hawkins  in  their  semi-piratical  expeditions, 
they  had  an  aversion  to  either  honest  toil  or  hon 
est  pay.  The  greatest  part  of  the  Pilgrims  were 
consequently  kept  on  board  of  the  vessel,  packing 
their  goods  in  the  hold  of  the  ship,  while  all  the 
remainder  were  busy  rowing  the  boats,  and  carry 
ing  off  the  effects. 

The  women  and  children  hovered  about  the 
watch-fire,  keeping  close  together  to  instill  some 
warmth  into  their  poor  shivering  bodies. 


THE   CAPTURE   AND    ESCAPE.  11 

The  last  boat-load  had  gone  and  only  three  men 
remained  on  shore.  They  were  the  pastor  John 
Robinson,  Stephen  Hopkins  and  Edward  Tilly. 

Mr.  Robinson  went  to  where  the  women  and 
children  of  his  flock  hovered  about  the  fire,  and 
endeavored  to  instil  into  their  fainting  souls  some 
hope.  He  told  them  that  the  sun  never  failed  to 
shine,  however  dark  it  might  seem.  So  was  God's 
goodness  always  shining  upon  us.  The  wickedness 
of  kings  and  rulers  might  temporarily  obscure  the 
joy  which  God  intended  for  his  children;  yet  in 
time,  happiness  would  return  as  surely  as  the  sun 
came  after  the  night  to  warm  and  invigorate  the 
earth. 

Hope  began  once  more  to  revive  in  their  hearts, 
and  the  poor  mothers  were  clasping  their  children 
more  closely  to  their  breasts,  praying  that  the 
good  time  might  not  be  long  delayed,  when  the 
sound  of  rapid  footsteps  fell  on  their  ears.  Some 
one  was  running  toward  the  band  of  unhappy 
Pilgrims. 

"Mr.  Robinson,"  cried  the  excited  Stephen 
Hopkins,  "something  is  amiss;  come  this  way." 

The  pastor  left  the  women  and  hurried  to  the 
tree  under  which  his  two  companions  stood. 

"Behold,  here  comes  some  one  at  full  speed!" 

The  eyes  of  the  pastor  were  sharp,  and  pierced 
the  darkness  like  an  eagle's.  He  saw  a  familiar 


12  THE   PILGRIMS. 

form  running  toward  them.  It  was  a  slender  young 
figure  clad  in  the  costume  of  a  Pilgrim,  save  that 
he  wore  a  green  cap  instead  of  the  steeple-crowned 
hat.  In  his  right  hand  he  carried  a  sword,  and 
one  could  have  told  by  his  flashing  eye  and 
agitated  manner,  that  he  was  laboring  under  some 
great  excitement. 

"Fly!  fly!  fly!"  cried  the  young  man,  leaping 
to  the  side  of  Mr.  Robinson.  "The  king's  horse 
are  on  you.  Fly  for  your  lives!" 

"Mathew,"  said  Mr.  Robinson  calmly. 

"Go,  you  have  not  a  moment  to  lose." 

"We  cannot  go.  All  the  boats  are  at  the 
ship." 

"There  is  one  small  boat  on  the  beach,"  cried 
Hopkins.  "Come,  Mr.  Robinson,  you  must  go, 
or  they  will  hang  you.  You  know  the  king's 
order." 

"Would  you  have  us  desert  the  women?"  de 
manded  Robinson. 

"They  will  not  harm  the  women  and  children; 
but  King  James  would  hang  you."  Then  Stephen 
Hopkins  and  Edward  Tilly  laid  hold  of  their  pas 
tor  and  by  main  force  dragged  him  to  the  small 
boat  lying  on  the  beach.  He  was  forced  into  it 
and  rowed  from  the  shore.  Realizing  how  power 
less  he  was  to  aid  the  helpless  and  innocent,  the 
good  pastor  burst  into  tears,  crying: 


THE   CAPTURE   AND    ESCAPE.  13 

"The  women  and  children!  the  women  and 
children!" 

"  Never  fear, "  responded  Mathew,  who  remained 
on  shore,  sword  in  hand.  "I  will  protect  the 
women  and  children." 

The  boat  reached  the  ship,  the  pastor  was  taken 
on  board,  and  the  captain,  fearing  that  his  vessel 
might  be  seized,  set  sail.  Thus  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  quitted  England  for  Holland. 

The  young  man  who  had  given  the  warning  was 
a  daring  fellow  with  dark  eyes  and  masses  of  wav 
ing  hair  hanging  about  his  face.  He  was  of 
medium  height,  possessing  a  form  that  seemed  to 
defy  fatigue,  exposure,  and  disease.  He  was  more 
of  a  cavalier  than  an  English  Puritan.  It  is  need 
less  to  say  that  he  was  brave;  his  actions  had 
already  established  that  fact.  This  young  man 
was  the  Mathew,  of  whom  Mr.  Robinson  had 
spoken  as  being  on  guard  on  the  heath. 

Mathew  watched  the  small  boat  only  a  moment, 
and  then,  turning  about,  hastened  to  the  women 
and  children,  who  were  giving  utterance  to  the 
most  piteous  cries  and  lamentations.  The  body 
of  horsemen  came  in  sight,  and  could  be  seen 
dashing  over  the  heath,  spreading  out  to  the  right 
and  left,  like  the  wings  of  a  great  black 
vulture. 

Against  that  body  of  cavaliers  was  interposed 


14  THE  PILGRIMS. 

the  single  arm  of  Matliew.  He  rushed  at  the  head 
of  the  column,  crying: 

"Back!  back!  back,  tyrants,  or  you  will  rue 
this  day's  work!" 

"Prythee!  whom  have  we  here?"  demanded  the 
captain  of  the  dragoons. 

"By  the  mass!  it's  a  Puritan  in  arms,"  answered 
one  of  his  lieutenants.  "Marry!  but  he  is  a  dar 
ing  fellow.  With  your  consent,  captain,  I  will 
cut  the  comb  of  this  young  cock." 

"  Have  a  care  that  he  does  not  prove  too  much 
for  you." 

The  lieutenant  laughed,  and,  touching  his 
horse's  flank  with  his  spur,  leaped  at  the  youth, 
aiming  a  downward  blow  with  his  heavy  sabre, 
which  Mathew  easily  parried,  and  next  moment 
the  point  of  his  own  blade  rang  against  the  horse 
man's  breast-plate. 

"Beware!"  shouted  the  captain.  The  affair 
which  he  had  hoped  would  not  result  in  blood 
shed,  gave  promise  of  a  tragical  ending. 

"Away,  tyrants!"  cried  the  exasperated 
Mathew. 

"He  breathes  treason!"  shouted  the  angry  lieu 
tenant,  directing  a  second  blow  at  the  youth's 
head,  which  he  dexterously  dodged,  at  the  same 
time  pricking  the  officer's  horse  with  the  point  of 
his  sword,  causing  the  animal  to  leap  so  suddenly 


"BY   TUB    MASS,    IT   I-J    A   PURITAN   IV   ARMS  !  ' 


THE    CAPTURE   AND    ESCAPE.  15 

backward,  that  the  officer  lost  his  seat  and  fell 
headlong  to  the  ground. 

In  a  moment  Mathew's  foot  was  on  the  breast  of 
the  fallen  man,  and,  turning  defiantly  on  the 
horde  which  surrounded  him,  he  cried: 

"Back!  back,  cowards,  or  I  will  slay  your 
officer!" 

The  affair  could  have  but  one  ending.  It  was 
valor  thrown  awa}*.  Mathew  was  surrounded  by 
the  host  of  cavalry,  disarmed,  and  made  a  prisoner 
in  much  less  time  than  we  could  describe  the 
event.  Being  securely  bound,  he  was  carried 
away  to  the  nearest  village  and  lodged  in  a  tem 
porary  prison,  until  he  could  be  transferred  to  a 
more  secure  jail. 

Just  as  the  boat  containing  Mr.  Robinson 
reached  the  ship,  the  horsemen  seized  on  the  help 
less  women  and  children  who  had  not  yet  ven 
tured  on  the  surf.  "  Pitiful  it  was  to  see  the 
heavy  case  of  these  poor  women  in  their  distress; 
what  weeping  and  crying  on  every  side!"  Their 
only  crime  was  that  they  would  not  part  from  their 
husbands  and  fathers.  Their  helpless  condition 
appealed  even  to  the  stony  hearts  of  their  captors, 
and  they  were  taken  to  the  nearest  hamlet  and 
lodged  in  comfortable  houses,  until  their  case 
could  be  heard  by  the  magistrates. 

The  reader  of  this  story  is  no  doubt  asking  him- 


16  THE   PILGRIMS. 

self  why  these  defenceless  women  and  children 
were  seized  by  the  king's  troops.  What  crime 
had  they  committed  that  they  could  not  leave 
their  country?  Their  crime  was  daring  to  assert 
their  rights  to  religious  liberty.  The  student  of 
history  will  bear  in  mind  that  there  existed,  about 
the  beginning  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  three 
powerful  religious  parties — Roman  Catholic,  Ang 
lican  and  Puritan — crystallized  into  distinct  sects 
and  all  struggling  for  supremacy.  The  first  revolt 
against  the  mother  church  at  Rome,  led  by 
Luther  and  Melancthon,  only  marked  the  begin 
ning  of  an  era  of  reformations.  Once  secession 
from  the  church  had  commenced — once  liberty  of 
conscience  had  been  established,  and  creeds  almost 
innumerable  sprang  up,  and  have  continued  to 
spring  up  to  this  day.  Among  them  was  a  class 
of  Christians  who,  from  the  purity  of  their  lives 
and  the  simplicity  of  their  manners,  were  called 
Puritans.  As  is  often  the  case,  the  epithet  given 
in  derision  became  respectable,  and  to-day  the 
name  of  Puritan  is  venerated  by  the  civilized 
world. 

The  Puritans  were  fewer  in  number  than  either 
of  their  antagonists,  but  stronger  in  the  moral 
power  which  asserts  and  defends  the  rights  of 
man.  They  boldly  declared  the  right  of  private 
judgment  in  religious  matters  to  be  inalienable,  and 


THE   CAPTURE  AND   ESCAPE.  17 

that  every  human  being  was  endowed  with  the 
natural  privilege  of  worshipping  God  according  to 
the  dictates  of  conscience.  Upon  the  same  plat 
form  of  principles  they  asserted  the  rights  of  the 
people  to  the  enjoyment  of  civil  freedom,  doctrines 
very  much  at  variance  with  the  prevailing  ideas  of 
sovereignty  in  all  the  civilized  world.  The  Puri 
tan  pulpits  became  the  tribunes  of  the  common 
people,  and  sometimes  the  preachers  were  bold 
enough  to  promulgate  the  democratic  doctrine,  so 
dangerous  to  the  royal  prerogative,  that  the  sovereign 
was  amenable  to  public  opinion  when  fairly  expressed. 
The  Anglican  Church  still  retained  the  Eomish 
ritual,  and  many  of  the  leading  clergymen  opposed 
its  use,  and  Bishop  Hooper  made  Puritanism  con 
spicuous  by  refusing  to  be  consecrated  in  the  eccle 
siastical  vestments.  Bishop  Coverdale,  and  other 
high  dignitaries  at  a  little  later  period,  refused  to 
subscribe  to  the  Liturgy  and  ceremonials,  and  so 
led  the  great  army  of  nonconformists.  The  fears 
and  jealousy  of  the  queen  resulted  in  the  "Thirty- 
nine  Articles  of  Religion  of  the  Anglican  Church," 
which  were,  by  an  act  of  Parliament,  made  the  rule 
of  faith  and  practice  for  all  subjects  of  the  realm. 
Whitgift,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  com 
manded  to  enforce  discipline,  upon  which  he  issued 
his  infamous  instructions  to  the  bishops,  to  "for 
bid  and  prevent  preaching,  catechizing,  and  pray- 
2 


18  THE   PILGRIMS. 

ing  in  any  private  family  in  the  presence  of  persons 
not  belonging  to  it,  and  to  silence  all  preachers 
and  catechists  who  had  not  received  orders  from 
the  Episcopal  hands,  or  who  refused  or  neglected  to 
read  the  whole  of  the  service  or  to  wear  the  pre 
scribed  clerical  habits,  or  to  subscribe  to  the 
queen's  supremacy,  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  and 
the  Book  of  Common  Prayer."  Despite  all  the 
persecution,  Puritanism  flourished  and  grew  more 
rank,  especially  in  secret.  Ministers  and  congre 
gations  withdrew  from  the  Anglican  Church,  and 
so  acquired  the  name  of  Separatists  or  Indepen 
dents.  At  the  time  of  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
they  numbered  twenty  thousand,  and  were  the 
special  objects  for  Whitgift's  lash.  Some  of  the 
ministers  and  their  congregations,  unable  to  endure 
the  oppression,  withdrew  to  Holland  where  there 
was  religious  freedom  for  all. 

On  the  ascension  of  James  to  the  throne  of 
England,  it  was  hoped,  as  he  was  reputed  to  be  a 
Presbyterian,  that  there  would  be  some  toleration; 
but,  alas,  they  were  doomed  to  a  wretched  disap 
pointment.  Soon  after  James  was  crowned,  he 
called  a  conference  at  Hampton  Court,  in  which 
he  was  the  chief  actor.  At  this  conference  the 
Puritan  divines,  some  of  them  the  most  eminent 
scholars  in  the  land,  were  annoyed  by  the  coarse 
browbeating  of  the  bishop  of  London,  and  the  vul- 


THE   CAPTURE   AND   ESCAPE.  19 

gar  jests  of  the  king.  A  modern  writer,  in  sum 
ming  up  tlie  verdict  rendered  by  history  on  the 
character  of  King  James,  says: 

"He  was  cunning,  covetous,  wasteful,  idle, 
drunken,  greedy,  dirty,  cowardly,  a  great  swearer, 
and  the  most  conceited  man  on  earth." 

Such  was  the  character  of  the  man  under  whose 
reign  John  Robinson  and  William  Brewster,  with 
their  flocks,  determined  to  emigrate  to  Holland, 
whither  many  had  gone  before  them.  And  all  this 
misery,  this  flight  by  night,  capture  and  imprison 
ment  grew  out  of  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to 
serving  the  same  God.  The  differences  were  said 
by  Mr.  Robinson  to  be  "  in  some  accidental  ci*1- 
cumstances,"  such  as: 

"  Their  ministers  do  pray  with  their  heads 
covered;  we  uncovered.  We  choose  none  for 
governing  elders,  but  such  as  are  able  to  teach, 
which  ability  they  do  not  require.  Their  elders 
and  deacons  are  annual,  or  at  most  for  two  or 
three  years;  ours  perpetual.  Our  elders  do  ad 
minister  their  office  in  admonitions  and  ex-com 
munications  for  public  scandals,  publicly  and  before 
the  congregation;  theirs  more  privately,  and  in 
their  consistories.  We  do  administer  baptism  only 
to  such  infants  as  whereof  the  one  parent,  at  least, 
is  of  some  church,  which  some  of  their  churches 
do  not  observe;  although  in  it  our  practice  accords 


20  THE   PILGRIMS. 

with  their  public  confession  and  the  judgment  of 
the  most  learned  among  them." 

It  might  seem  at  first  that  these  poor  women  and 
children  were  arrested  on  that  dark  March  night, 
because  they  prayed  with  their  heads  uncovered. 
Such  was  not  the  fact.  It  was  not  so  much  mat 
ters  of  religious  conscience  which  made  King  James 
and  his  predecessor  become  the  enemies  of  the 
Puritans,  as  the  ideas  of  liberty  which  they  boldly 
promulgated. 

Some  historians  say  that  when  an  application 
was  made  to  the  king  for  a  patent,  under  the 
"king's  broad  seal,"  for  a  church  of  Puritans, 
maintaining  the  liberty  and  power  under  God  of 
choosing  and  ordaining  their  own  ministers,  the 
blustering  monarch  answered: 

" Give  them  a  patent  for  such  religion!  They 
will  be  for  choosing  their  king  next.  We  will 
make  them  conform,  or  hang  them;  that  is  all." 

In  the  dark  hours  of  persecution,  Holland  was 
very  naturally  looked  to  by  the  Puritans  as  the 
place  where  they  might  fully  enjoy  the  liberty  of 
conscience.  In  the  controversy  with  Spain,  Hol 
land  had  displayed  Eepublican  virtues,  and,  in 
the  reformation  of  the  churches,  had  imitated  the 
discipline  of  Calvin.  In  its  greatest  dangers,  Hol 
land  had  had  England  for  its  ally.  At  one  time, 
it  had  almost  become  a  part  of  the  English 


THE    CAPTURE   AND    ESCAPE.  21 

dominions,  and  the  "cautionary  towns"  were  still 
garrisoned  by  English  regiments,  some  of  which 
were  friendly  to  the  separatists.  Thus  the  emi 
grants  were  attracted  to  Holland,  "where,  they 
heard,  was  freedom  of  religion  for  all  men." 

Next  morning  the  women  and  children  were 
arraigned  before  the  blustering  but  good-natured 
old  magistrate.  lie  asked  of  what  crime  they 
were  accused.  Their  only  offence  was  that  they 
would  not  part  from  their  husbands  and  fathers. 

"I  can  see  no  crime  in  that,"  cried  the  magis 
trate.  "By  the  mass!  they  deserve  commenda 
tion  for  it.  Send  them  to  their  homes." 

"We  have  no  homes  to  go  to,"  said  a  worthy 
matron  of  forty. 

"In  truth,  they  have  not,"  affirmed  the  execu 
tive  officer  who  had  made  the  arrest.  "Their 
protectors  and  husbands  have  gone  to  Holland." 

The  magistrates  found  that  they  had  a  burden 
on  their  hands  which  they  were  glad  to  get  rid  of 
on  any  terms,  and  the  women  and  children  were 
sent  to  join  the  Pilgrims  at  Holland. 

There  was  one  who  did  not  get  off  so  easily.  The 
handsome  young  Mathew  was  still  in  durance  vile. 
His  case  was  more  serious,  for  he  had  resisted 
the  officers  of  the  king  with  force  and  arms. 
Many  a  man  had  been  hung  for  a  less  offence. 
In  his  rude  prison  Mathew  lingered,  cheerful  and 


22 


THE   PILGRIMS. 


unmoved  by  the  awful  doom  with  which  he  was 
threatened.  It  would  have  been  hard  to  have 
determined  Mathew's  exact 
age.  He  might  be  twenty, 
and  he  might  be  twenty-five. 
His  handsome  face  was  de 
cidedly  youthful;  but  he 
had  the  courage  and  judg 
ment  of  one  of  mature 
years.  Though  reared  by 
Mr.  John  Kobinson  in  the 
Puritanical  faith,  he  was  by 
no  means  Puritanical  in  ac 
tion.  He  was  impulsive, 
fiery,  and  daring  as  we  have 
seen.  lie  was  a  person  to 
delight  the  romancer  and 
poet.  His  heroic  ej^e  kin 
dled  more  readily  at  the 
trump  of  battle  than  with 
the  religious  enthusiasm  of 
a  Pilgrim.  lie  was  more 
of  a  knight  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  than  a  soldier  of  the 
Cross.  Four  days  of  con 
finement  in  his  impromptu 
prison  failed  to  depress  his  spirits. 

The  fifth  day  since  his  arrest  was  closing  dark 


"DO  YOU  WANT  YOUR 
LIBERTY?" 


THE   CAPTURE  AND   ESCAPE.  23 

and  stormy.  The  wild  wind  swept  across  the 
rainy  sky  and  beat  the  tempest  against  his  miser 
able  prison.  It  was  not  yet  dark,  when,  from  his 
narrow  grated  window,  by  which  he  had  been  tied, 
he  espied  a  face  looking  at  him.  It  was  the 
sweet,  childish  face  of  a  little  maid  of  ten  or 
twelve  years.  She  gazed  at  him  for  a  short  time, 
her  great  blue  eyes  expressing  the  sympathy  she 
felt  for  the  captive,  and  then  she  asked : 

"How  do  you  do?" 

"Badly  enough,  little  maid,"  answered  the 
young  soldier.  "I  am  deprived  the  liberty  of  my 
limbs,  and  they  ache  for  the  lack  of  exercise." 

"Do  you  \vant  your  liberty?" 

"Nothing  would  give  me  more  pleasure;  but 
you  cannot  set  me  free." 

"That  I  can,"  returned  the  little  girl,  with  a 
smile  on  her  pretty  face. 

"  Pry thee,  how  will  you  go  about  it,  seeing  I 
am  tied  and  the  door  is  guarded?" 

She  smiled,  drew  a  bench  under  the  window, 
mounted  it,  and,  placing  her  lips  close  to  the  iron 
bars,  whispered: 

"Peace,  be  still!  Your  guard  is  now  at  the 
ale-house  across  the  way,  drinking  and  making 
merry.  The  door  is  fastened  by  an  iron  bar  on 
the  outside,  and  while  he  enjoys  his  wine  and 
song,  I  will  give  you  your  liberty." 


24  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"Remember,    sweet  maid,   I  am  tied  hand  and 

foot." 

"I  have  that  which  will  release  thee,"  she  an 
swered,  holding  up  to  his  gaze  a  bright-bladed 
knife. 

Mathew  nodded  assent,  and  the  face  disappeared 
from  the  window.  Such  a  long  time  elapsed,  that 
he  began  to  fear  she  had  failed  to  open  the  door, 
when  he  heard  a  slight  noise  without.  His  heart 
beat  high  with  hope.  The  great  door  softly 
opened,  and  a  slender  figure  glided  forward  into 
the  room. 

"Don't  speak,"  said  the  child,  "I  know  all.  I 
heard  that  you  were  confined  here,  and  my  mother 
sympathizes  with  the  Puritans.  I  came  to  release 
you." 

Her  nimble  fingers,  aided  by  the  keen  knife, 
soon  loosed  the  cords.  He  might  thank  his  little 
deliverer  that  she  had  come  before  he  was  removed 
to  a  more  substantial  prison,  where  these  cords 
would  have  been  supplanted  with  irons  that  would 
have  defied  her  feeble  strength  and  skill.  In  a 
moment  he  was  free,  and,  turning  to  his  small 
rescuer,  he  asked: 

"What  is  your  name,  sweet  maid?  I  would 
know  whom  I  have  to  thank  for  this  deliverance." 

"I  am  Alice  White,  and  I  live  with  my  mother 
in  the  village." 


THE   CAPTURE   AND    ESCAPE.  25 

"God  bless  you,  Alice!  I  trust  that  I  may 
some  day  be  able  to  repay  you  for  the  great  ser 
vice  you  have  rendered  me." 

He  stooped,  imprinted  a  kiss  on  the  pretty 
young  cheek  and  hurried  away  into  the  darkness, 
while  his  guard  made  merry  in  the  tap-room.  Dis 
guising  himself,  he  hurried  across  the  country  and 
took  passage  for  Holland,  where  he  joined  the  Pil 
grims  who  had  gone  before  him. 


CHAPTER   II. 

MATHEW    AND    HANS. 

When  the  breezes  are  soft  and  the  skies  are  fair, 
I  steal  an  hour  from  study  and  care, 
And  hie  me  away  to  the  woodland  scene, 
Where  wanders  the  stream  with  its  waters  of  green  ; 
As  if  the  bright  fringe  of  the  herbs  on  its  brink, 
Had  given  their  stain  to  the  wave  they  drink ; 
And  they  whose  meadows  it  murmurs  through, 
Have  named  the  stream  from  its  own  fair  hue. 

— BRYANT. 

ON  a  certain  afternoon,  in  Holland,  about  the 
year  1617,  the  wind  was  blowing  freshly,  driving 
sundry  black  clouds  across  the  slate-colored  sky. 
The  heavens  were  dreary  to  look  upon;  the  rocky 
and  sandy  coast,  with  its  great  dikes,  offered  no 
pleasing  prospect,  and  the  ocean,  spreading  away 
to  the  farthest  limit  of  the  vision,  seemed  a  mass 
of  foam. 

On  this  cheerless  shore  stood  a  small  hut,  which 
appeared  to  be  the  residence  of  a  fisherman,  if 
one  might  judge  from  the  nets  and  ropes  lying  on 
the  sand,  or  hung  upon  the  rocks  along  the  dike. 
The  building  was  constructed  of  round  stones, 

26 


MATHEW  AND   HANS.  27 

rather  peculiar  in  appearance,  the  stones  being 
dark  and  the  mortar  that  held  them  together  of 
glaring  whiteness.  There  was  nothing  in  its  archi 
tecture  calling  for  particular  notice,  except  it  might 
be  a  pile  of  stones  resting  on  the  roof,  which  was 
no  doubt  intended  to  be  used  as  a  chimney.  The 
hut  had  one  or  two  small  windows  and  one  large 
door.  Wooden  shutters  hung  before  the  windows. 
One  was  closed,  keeping  out  the  light  and  air, 
while  the  other  was  propped  up  by  a  stick,  so 
that  whoever  was  in  the  dwelling  might  enjoy  a 
view  of  the  lively  ocean.  The  position  of  the 
little  house  was  near  the  sea,  with  some  sand  and 
plenty  of  sea-weed  lying  between.  Piles  of  rocks 
jutted  boldly  out  into  the  water  at  a  little  distance, 
increasing  the  wildness  of  the  scene.  Back  of  the 
hut  were  some  trees,  which  in  the  springtime  of 
their  existence  did  their  best  to  grow,  but,  receiv 
ing  no  encouragement,  soon  gave  up  the  thought  of 
ever  becoming  noble  or  lofty,  and  were  content  to 
undergo  the  heats  of  summer  and  the  rigors  of 
winter  in  their  stunted  and  ugly  shapes.  Without 
the  hut  was  a  rude  bench  fastened  to  the  wall,  where 
one  might  sit  and  gaze  upon  the  ocean  whose  hol 
low  roar  could  be  distinctly  heard  at  the  hut. 

One  who  knew  anything  of  the  Hollanders  two 
centuries  ago,  need  not  be  told  that  this  was  the 
home  of  a  Dutchman. 


28  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Two  young  men  were  coming  leisurely  along  the 
strand  which  stretched  away  between  the  sea  and 
the  house.  One  was  a  Hollander.  Though  scarce 
four  and  twenty  years  of  age,  his  short  stature, 
strong  frame,  and  general  characteristics,  marked 
him  as  a  native  of  the  Netherlands.  His  compan 
ion's  nationality  was  not  so  easily  determined.  In 
costume  he  was  a  Pilgrim;  but  he  had  not  the 
features  of  an  Englishman.  His  cheek  was  almost 
swarthy,  and  the  silken  down  which  appeared  on 
his  upper  lip  was  jet  black.  He  had  the  bold  air 
of  a  knight  of  mediaeval  times,  arid  was  just  such  a 
figure  as  attract  romantically  inclined  people. 

The  hut  toward  which  they  were  making  their 
way  was  the  home  of  the  young  Hollander.  They 
were  talking  in  the  language  of  the  Netherlands, 
which  both  spoke  fluently. 

"Come,  Mathew;  let  us  sit  on  the  bench  and 
rest,"  suggested  the  young  Dutchman,  who  carried 
a  broken  net  on  his  shoulder.  "You  have  two 
good  hours  before  setting  out  for  Leyden." 

The  young  man  addressed  as  Mathew  was  the 
same  daring  youth  captured  on  the  lonely  heath  in 
Lincolnshire  while  defending  the  Puritan  women 
and  children  in  1608.  Though  almost  nine  years 
had  elapsed  there  was  little  change  in  him.  He 
did  not  look  a  day  older  than  at  the  time  of  his 
arrest.  His  stately  form  was  tireless,  and  his 


MATHEW  AND    HANS.  29 

dark  eye  flashed  with  the  fire  of  a  soldier.  More 
to  please  his  friend  than  from  any  desire  to  rest,  he 
accepted  the  invitation  to  sit  on  the  bench  in  front 
of  the  hut,  and  for  a  long  time  they  sat  silently 
listening  to  the  sullen  roar  of  the  distant  sea.  The 
young  Hollander,  whose  name  was  Hans  Van 
Brunt,  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence.  When 
ho  spoke  it  was  with  the  freedom  of  a  near  and 
dear  friend. 

"So,  Mathew,  you  Puritans  are  going  away  from 
Leydcn.  You  do  seem  hard  to  please.  First  you 
come  from  England  to  Amsterdam,  and  after  a 
short  sojourn  remove  to  Ley  den  ;  now  your  pastor 
and  elders  contemplate  removing  to  America." 

"They  will  go  if  they  can,  Hans." 

"Will  they  go  as  English  or  Dutch  emigrants?" 

"English." 

"  Wherefore  as  English,  seeing  that  you  were 
banished  from  your  native  land?" 

With  a  shake  of  his  head,.  Mathew  solemnly 
answered : 

"  The  love  of  country  is  too  deeply  planted  in 
the  Englishman's  heart  to  be  easily  effaced.  True, 
our  king  and  the  bishops  have  ill-used  us;  never 
theless,  we  cannot  forget  that  we  are  Englishmen." 

Hans  gazed  at  his  companion  for  a  moment, 
then,  with  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees,  gazed 
on  the  ground.  Hans  was  a  characteristic  Hoi- 


30  THE   PILGRIMS. 

lander,  sturdy,  honest,  though tf ul ,  good-natured, 
slow.  Though  brave  as  a  lion,  he  never  quarrelled ; 
for  him  there  was  never  occasion  for  quarrel.  His 
blonde  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  ruddy  cheeks  were  quite 
in  contrast  with  the  dark-brown  hair  and  eyes  of 
his  companion.  Hans  was  thinking,  and  he 
thought  slowly.  After  about  five  minutes,  the 
brief  argument  which  he  had  been  evolving  in  his 
mind  was  ready  for  expression,  and  he  said: 

"We  have  a  goodly  country  on  the  great  river 
discovered  by  the  Englishman,  Hudson.  Our 
West  India  Company  would  be  glad  to  send  you 
there,  wherefore  do  you  not  go?" 

With  a  sigh,  Mathew  answered: 

"We  are  Englishmen,  and  love  of  country  can 
not  be  crushed  from  our  hearts." 

After  another  silence  of  five  minutes,  during 
which  time  Hans  with  his  characteristic  slowness 
was  arranging  his  argument,  he  asked : 

"  Why  should  you  go  ?  You  arc  no  Englishman ! " 

Mathew  turned  quickly  on  his  companion  to  see 
if  he  was  jesting.  No;  Hans  was  in  earnest. 
Gravely  he  repeated,  "No,  you  are  no  English 
man." 

"  How  do  you  know?"  asked  Mathew. 

"I  have  heard  your  story  told  by  one  who 
knows." 

"Mr.  Eobinson?" 


MATHEW  AND    HANS.  31 

"Yes." 

"I  Lave  always  been  taught  to  regard  him  as  a 
relative,  and  he  has  been  all  to  me  that  a  father 
could." 

"Yet  not  a  drop  of  the  same  blood  courses  in 
your  veins;  you  are  of  another  nation.  You  are 
a  Spaniard." 

Mathew  Stevens  started  from  the  bench,  walked 
a  short  distance  and,  returning,  resumed  his  seat. 
He  had  heard  vague  hints  of  this  before,  so  he  was 
not  taken  wholly  by  surprise.  Mr.  Robinson  had 
never  told  him  the  story  of  his  life.  Mathew  had 
lived  in  careless  ease,  with  an  occasional  period  of 
excitement;  but  as  yet  he  had  given  little  thought 
to  either  the  past  or  the -future. 

"No;  you  are  not  an  Englishman,  but  a  Span 
iard,"  continued  Hans  with  his  characteristic  slow 
ness.  "Why  not  live  in  Holland,  take  you  a  wife 
among  the  maidens  of  Leyden  or  Amsterdam  and 
go  with  us  to  the  New  Netherland?" 

"Are  you  going,  Hans?"  asked  Mathew. 

"Certainly,  I  shall.  I  don't  want  to  leave 
Katharine;  yet  we  are  poor,  and  there  is  a  great 
future  for  young  people  in  the  new  world.  1  sup 
pose  I  shall  go  first,  build  us  a  home,  and  then 
send  for  her." 

The  young  Dutchman  took  as  much  delight  in 
talking  of  his  plans  for  the  future,  as  a  school-girl 


32  THE   PILGRIMS. 

does  of  her  first  lover.  Hans  would  have  gone  on 
for  hours  sounding  the  praises  of  Katharine;  but 
Mathew  was  in  no  mood  to  listen  to  him.  Some 
of  the  young  fellow's  remarks  had  set  him  think 
ing  of  himself,  and  when  Hans  sought  to  win  back 
his  interest  by  changing  the  subject  to  Ilonora  Van 
Twiller,  who  had  smiled  on  Mathew,  he  failed. 

When  the  hour  for  his  departure  came,  he 
declined  the  mug  of  wine  which  Hans'  mother 
offered  him,  and  hastened  away  to  Ley  den. 

The  pastor  of  the  Pilgrims,  Mr.  John  Robinson, 
was  in  his  study  that  evening  when  Mathew  en 
tered.  Mr.  Robinson  raised  his  mild  eyes  from 
the  sacred  volume  over  which  he  was  poring  and 
fixed  them  on  the  troubled  face  of  the  young  man. 

"I  have  had  a  rumor  confirmed  to-day,"  said 
Mathew. 

"Pray  what  is  it?" 

"  That  the  same  blood  does  not  flow  in  our 
veins;  that  I  am  not  an  Englishman,  but  a 
Spaniard.  Is  it  true?" 

For  a  moment  silence  pervaded  the  room,  and 
then  Mr.  Robinson,  in  his  deep  impressive  voice, 
said: 

"It  is  true." 

"Why  have  you  not  told  me  before?" 

"For  the  reason  that  I  knew  nothing  to  tell. 
That  you  are  of  Spanish  birth  I  have  good  reason  to 


MATHEW   AND   HANS.  33 

believe.  That  there  is  nothing  in  your  parentage 
which  should  cause  you  to  blush,  I  am  assured, 
and  yet  I  have  no  positive  knowledge  of  anything." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  you  know  of  my 
history?" 

"At  some  time,  but  not  now,  for  there  are  other 
matters  which  I  wish  to  discuss  with  you.  Our 
people  realize  that  they  are  pilgrims,  sojourning  in 
the  land  of  strangers.  We  can  never  again  regard 
England  as  an  abiding  place,  yet  we  cannot  become 
other  than  Englishmen.  Our  children  are  being 
gradually  weaned  from  the  course  in  which  we 
would  have  them  trained.  We  have  this  day 
decided  to  send  John  Carver  and  Robert  Cushman 
to  treat  with  the  Virginia  Company  for  planting  a 
colony  of  Pilgrims  within  their  domain." 

"When  do  they  start?" 

"  Day  af{er  to-morrow. " 

"I  would  go  with  them." 

"Would  you  dare  return  to  England?" 

"Why  should  I  not?" 

"Your  capture,  your  escape?" 

"Among  the  ten  thousand  other  events  which 
have  transpired  since  then,  it  is  surely  forgotten." 

"Do  you  wish  to  go?" 

"I  do;  I  also  want  to  become  one  of  the  first 
emigrants  to  the  New  World." 

"You  shall." 


34  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Arrangements  were  consequently  made  for 
Mathew  to  accompany  tlie  two  agents  of  the  Pil 
grims  to  confer  with  tlie  Virginia  Company. 

It  will  lead  to  a  better  understanding  of  our 
story,  at  this  point,  to  notice  some  of  the  general 
events  transpiring  in  the  new  world.  The  career 
of  maritime  discovery  had  been  pursued  with 
intrepidity  and  rewarded  with  success.  The  voy 
ages  of  Gosnold,  Wayrnouth,  Smith,  and  Hudson; 
the  enterprise  of  Raleigh,  Delaware,  and  Gorges; 
the  compilations  of  Eden,  Willes,  and  Ilakluyt  had 
filled  the  commercial  world  with  wonder.  Calvin- 
ists  of  the  French  Church  had  vainly  sought  to 
plant  themselves  in  Brazil,  in  Carolina,  and  with 
De  Montesin  Acadia;  while  weighty  reasons,  often 
and  seriously  discussed,  inclined  the  Pilgrims  to 
change  their  abode.  They  had  been  bred  to  pur 
suits  of  husbandry,  and  in  Holland  they  were  com 
pelled  to  learn  mechanical  trades.  Brewster  became 
a  teacher  of  English  and  a  printer.  Bradford,  who 
had  been  brought  up  a  farmer,  learned  the  art  of 
silk-dyeing.  The  language  never  became  pleas 
antly  familiar;  in  fact,  but  few  ever  learned  to 
speak  it,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Dutch  were  not  entirely  congenial  to  their  strict 
Puritanic  ideas  of  morality.  The  Pilgrims  lived  as 
men  in  exile.  Many  of  their  English  "friends 
and  relatives  would  not  come  to  them,  or  departed 


MATHEW  AND   HANS.  35 

from  them  weeping."  "Their  continual  labors 
with  other  crosses  and  sorrows,  left  them  in  danger 
to  scatter  and  sink."  "Their  children,  sharing 
their  burdens,  bowed  under  the  weight,  and  were 
becoming  decrepit  in  early  youth."  Conscious  of 
ability  to  act  a  higher  part  in  the  great  drama  of 
humanity,  they  were  moved  by  "a  hope  and 
inward  zeal  of  advancing  the  gospel  of  the  king 
dom  of  Christ  in  the  remote  parts  of  the  New 
World;  yea,  though  they  should  be  but  as 
stepping  stones  unto  others  for  performing  so  great 
a  work." 

The  proprietors  for  the  patent  of  North  Vir 
ginia,  Lord  Chief-Justice  Popham,  Sir  Ferdinand 
Gorges  and  others  (sometimes  called  the  Plymouth 
Company,  as  those  of  the  south  were  called  the 
London  Company),  in  1608  attempted  a  settle 
ment  at  the  North  which  utterly  failed.  These 
men,  after  a  few  unsuccessful  efforts,  gave  up  all 
thought  of  planting  any  colony  in  their  dominions. 

In  the  year  1614,  Captain  John  Smith,  the 
founder  of  Jamestown  and  the  father  of  Virginia, 
sailed  along  the  coast  in  company  with  Captain 
Thomas  Hunt,  who  commanded  one  of  the  vessels. 
Hunt  was  more  of  a  pirate  than  an  explorer,  and, 
in  opposition  to  Smith's  express  commands,  kid 
napped  a  number  of  the  Indians,  took  them  to 
Europe  and  sold  them  as  slaves.  It  was  on  this 


36  THE   PILGRIMS. 

voyage  that  Captain  Smith  first  named  that  portion 
of  North  America  New  England,  which  name  it 
bears  to  this  day.  In  the  year  1617,  when  the 
Pilgrims  first  set  on  foot  the  plan  for  removal  to 
America,  a  great  plague  visited  New  England,  and 
swept  away  thousands  upon  thousands  of  natives, 
as  if  the  way  were  being  prepared  to  plant  the  doc 
trine  of  liberty  in  the  New  World. 

Upon  their  talk  of  removal,  many  persons  of 
note  among  the  Dutch  sought  to  have  them  emigrate 
under  them,  and  made  them  some  splendid  propo 
sitions;  but  the  Pilgrims  were  attached  to  their 
nationality  as  Englishmen,  and  to  the  language  of 
their  line.  A  secret,  but  deeply  seated  love  of 
country  led  them  to  the  generous  purpose  of  recov 
ering  the  protection  of  England  by  enlarging  her 
dominions,  and  a  consciousness  of  their  worth 
cheered  them  on  to  make  a  settlement  of  their  own. 
They  were  restless  with  a  desire  to  live  once  more 
under  the  government  of  their  native  land. 

Whither  should  they  go  to  acquire  a  province 
under  King  James?  The  fertility  and  wealth  of 
Guiana  had  been  painted  in  dazzling  colors  by 
Ealeigh;  but  the  terrors  of  a  tropical  climate,  the 
wavering  pretensions  of  England,  the  soil,  and  the 
proximity  of  the  bigoted  Catholics,  led  them  to 
look  toward  "  the  most  northern  parts  of  Virginia, 
hoping,  under  the  general  government  of  that 


MATBEW  AND   HANS.  37 

province,"  to  live  in  a  distinct  body  to  themselves. 
To  obtain  the  consent  of  the  London  Company, 
Mr.  John  Carver  and  Mr.  Robert  Cushman  had 
been  chosen,  as  Mr.  Robinson  stated,  to  go  to 
England. 

Mathew  Stevens  went  with  Carver  and  Cushman 
to  England.  They  took  with  them  seven  articles 
from  the  members  of  the  Church  at  Leyden,  to 
submit  to  the  council  in  England  for  Virginia. 
The  articles  discussed  the  relations  which  the  Pil 
grims  bore  to  their  prince;  and  they  adopted  the 
theory  which  the  admonitions  of  Luther  and  a  cen 
tury  of  persecution  had  developed  as  the  common 
rule  of  plebeian  secretaries  on  the  continent  of 
Europe.  They  expressed  their  concurrence  in  the 
creed  of  the  Anglican  Church,  and  a  desire  of 
spiritual  communion  with  its  members.  Toward 
the  king  and  all  civil  authority  derived  from  him, 
including  bishops,  whose  civil  authority  they  alone 
recognized,  they  promised,  as  they  would  have 
done  to  Nero  and  the  Roman  pontifex,  "obedience 
in  all  things,  active  if  the  thing  commanded  be 
not  against  God's  word,  or  passive  if  it  be."  They 
denied  all  power  to  ecclesiastical  bodies,  unless  it 
were  by  the  temporal  magistrate.  They  pledged 
themselves  to  honor  their  superiors,  and  to  preserve 
unity  of  spirit  in  peace  with  all  men. 

"Divers   select   gentlemen    of    the   council    for 


38  THE   PILGRIMS, 

Virginia  were  well  satisfied  with  their  statement, 
and  resolved  to  set  forward  their  desire."  The 
London  Company  listened  very  willingly  to  their 
proposal,  so  that  the  agents  found  "God  going 
along  with  them"  and,  through  the  influence  of 
"Sir  Edwin  Sandys,  a  religious  gentleman  then 
living,  a  patent  might  at  once  have  been  taken, 
had  not  the  envoys  desired  to  consult  with  their 
friends  at  Leyden." 

It  was  the  fifteenth  of  December,  1617,  before 
the  Pilgrims  transmitted  their  formal  request, 
signed  by  the  hands  of  the  greater  part  of  the  con 
gregation.  "We  are  well  weaned,"  added  Mr. 
Eobinson  and  Brewster,  "from  the  delicate  milk 
of  our  mother  country,  and  inured  to  the  difficul 
ties  of  a  strange  land.  The  people  are  industrious 
and  frugal.  We  are  knit  together  as  a  body  in  a 
most  sacred  covenant  of  the  Lord,  of  the  violation 
whereof  we  make  great  conscience,  and  by  virtue, 
whereof  we  hold  ourselves  straitly  tied  to  all  care 
of  each  other's  good,  and  of  the  whole.  It  is  not 
with  us  as  with  men  whom  small  things  can 
discourage." 

The  messengers  of  the  Pilgrims,  satisfied  with 
their  reception  by  the  Virginia  Company,  petitioned 
the  king  for  liberty  of  religion,  to  be  confirmed 
under  the  king's  broad  seal;  but  here  they  encoun 
tered  insurmountable  difficulties.  Lord  Bacon,  of 


MATHEW  AND   HANS.  39 

all  men  at  that  time,  had  given  most  attention  to 
colonial  enterprises.  The  great  master  of  specula 
tive  wisdom  should  have  inculcated  freedom  of  con 
science;  but  for  that,  he  knew  too  little  of  religion. 
He  believed  that  the  established  church,  which  he 
cherished  as  the  eye  of  England,  was  not  without 
blemish;  that  the  wrongs  of  the  Puritans  could 
ne'ther  be  dissembled  nor  excused;  that  the  silenc 
ing  of  ministers,  for  the  sake  of  enforcing  cere 
monies,  was,  in  the  scarcity  of  good  preachers,  a 
punishment  that  lighted  on  the  people,  and  he 
esteemed  controversy  "  the  wind  by  which  truth  is 
winnowed." 

Bacon,  however,  was  formed  for  meditation  not 
for  action.  His  will  was  feeble,  and,  having  no 
power  of  resistance,  and  yet  an  incessant  yearning 
for  distinction  and  display,  he  became  a  craven 
courtier  and  an  intolerant  and  corrupt  statesman. 

"Discipline  by  bishops,"  said  he,  "is  fitted  for 
monarchy  of  all  others.  The  tenets  of  separatists 
and  sectaries  are  full  of  schism,  inconsistent  with 
monarchy.  The  king  will  beware  of  Anabaptists, 
Brownists,  and  others  of  their  kinds;  a  little  con 
nivency  sets  them  on  fire.  For  the  discipline  of  the 
church  in  colonies,  it  will  be  necessary  that  it  agree 
with  that  which  is  settled  in  England,  else  it  will 
make  a  schism  and  a  rent  in  Christ's  coat,  which 
must  be  seamless,  and,  to  that  purpose,  it  will  be 


40  THE  PILGRIMS. 

fit  that  the  king's  supremo  power  in  causes  eccle 
siastical,  within  all  his  dominions,  be  subordinate 
under  some  bishop  and  his  bishoprick  of  this  realm. 
This  caution  is  to  be  observed,  that  if  any  trans 
plant  themselves  into  plantations  abroad,  wrho  are 
known  as  schismatics,  outlaws,  or  criminal  persons, 
they  be  sent  for  back  upon  the  first  notice." 

These  views  were,  of  course,  detrimental  to  the 
ideas  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  the  ambassadors  began 
to  despair.  The  maxims  prevailed  at  the  coun 
cil-board,  when  the  envoys  from  the  independent 
church  at  Leyden  preferred  their  request. 

"Who  shall  make  your  ministers?"  was  asked 
of  them,  to  which  Carver  answered: 

"The  power  of  making  them  is  in  the  Church." 

His  avowal  of  the  principle  that  ordination 
requires  no  bishop  threatened  to  spoil  all.  To 
advance  the  dominions  of  England,  King  James 
esteemed  "a  good  and  honest  motion,  and  fishing 
was  an  honest  trade,  the  apostle's  own  calling;" 
yet  he  referred  the  suit  to  the  prelate  of  Canterbury 
and  London.  Even  while  negotiations  were  pend 
ing,  a  royal  declaration  constrained  the  Puritans  of 
Lancashire  to  conform  or  leave  the  realm,  and 
nothing  more  could  be  obtained  for  the  wilds  of 
America  than  an  informal  neglect.  On  this  the 
community  relied,  being  advised  not  to  entangle 
themselves  with  the  bishops. 


MATHEW  AND   HANS.  41 

"If  there  should  afterward  be  a  purpose  to 
wrong  us,"  they  argued,  "though  we  had  a  seal  as 
broad  as  a  barn  floor,  there  would  be  means  enough 
found  to  recall  it  or  reverse  it.  We  must  rest 
herein  on  God's  providence." 

It  was  on  the  second  visit  of  the  envoys  to 
England,  in  1618,  that  Mathew  Stevens  met  with  a 
singular,  and  what  at  first  threatened  to  be  a  dan 
gerous  adventure,  yet  it  had  a  happy  ending.  One 
afternoon,  while  walking  about  the  streets  of  Lon 
don,  he  came  face  to  face  with  a  man,  who  paused 
directly  before  him,  and,  placing  his  hands  on  his 
hips,  gave  him  an  impudent  stare.  The  stranger 
was  by  no  mea*ns  prepossessing.  His  head  was 
bullet  shaped,  his  face  round  and  bloated,  his 
small  eyes  grayish  and  wicked.  His  short  beard 
was  slightly  flecked  with  grey.  He  was  attired  in 
the  habiliments  of  a  mechanic,  and  though  he  was 
a  total  stranger,  there  seemed  to  be  something 
about  him  that  was  familiar. 

For  a  moment  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  young 
man,  and  then,  in  a  coarse,  brutal  voice,  exclaimed: 

"Ho!  youngster,  we  meet  again.  By  the  mass! 
ten  years  have  made  no  change  in  ye." 

"Away!   I  never  knew  you,"  cried  Mathew. 

"  Ten  years  is  too  short  a  time  to  efface  from 
my  recollection  a  certain  little  affair  with  which  ye 
were  connected." 


42  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"You  mistake.     I  repeat,  I  never  knew  you!" 

"  I  can  refresh  yer  memory.  Do  yo  remember 
the  dark  night  on  the  heath  in  Lincolnshire,  when 
the  Pilgrims  departed  for  Holland?" 

Mathew  started,  and  his  cheeks  flushed. 

"Aha!  ye  do  remember,  I  see.  I  was  one  of 
the  king's  horse  on  that  night.  I  it  was,  who 
was  appointed  to  guard  ye,  and  while  draining  a 
glass  at  the  tap-room,  thinking  ye  secure,  by  some 
means  ye  made  yer  escape;  then  I,  Francis  Billing- 
ton,  did  fare  badly.  I  was  sent  to  prison  for  neglect 
of  duty,  and  lost  my  place  in  the  king's  horse." 

Billington  had  a  fiendish  grin  on  his  face,  and 
his  eyes  blazed  with  the  hatred  of  a  demon. 
"Know  ye  the  vow  I  made?"  asked  the  ex- 
dragoon.  "  I  swore  that  should  I  ever  find  ye 
again,  I  would  seize  ye  and  drag  ye  before  the 
magistrate,  that  ye  might  suffer  as  ye  caused  me." 
With  this  he  took  a  step  toward  Mathew. 

"Away!"  cried  Mathew.  "You  are  no  officer, 
and  I  will  not  submit  to  an  arrest." 

Billington  made  a  bound  at  the  young  man,  and 
attempted  to  seize  him  by  the  throat.  He  was 
met  by  a  blow  in  the  face  which  staggered  him, 
and  before  he  could  sufficiently  recover  to  call  the 
watch,  Mathew  Stevens  darted  away,  and  was 
hurrying  from  street  to  street,  and  alley  to  alley  to 
bury  himself  in  the  great  city. 


MATHEW  AND   HANS.  43 

As  evening  came,  he  found  himself  in  the 
suburbs  of  London,  to-day  known  as  West  End. 
The  West  End  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago 
was  far  from  being  the  West  End  of  to-day. 
Hurrying  along  a  lane,  he  espied  a  light  in  a  cot 
tage.  The  cottage  was  cozy  and  homelike  in 
appearance,  and  appealed  to  his  tastes,  so  he  deter 
mined  to  apply  for  shelter.  To  his  timid  knock 
there  came  a  light  footstep,  and  the  door  opened. 
He  entered  and,  by  the  light  of  the  wax  candle, 
found  himself  in  a  small  but  neatly  furnished 
room.  He  saw  not  the  room,  nor  the  surround 
ings,  for  the  face  of  the  maiden  who  held  the  candle 
absorbed  all  his  attention.  A  flood  of  recollection, 
mingled  with  the  bright  dreams  of  the  last  ten 
years  swept  over  him.  Ten  years  had  changed  him 
but  little.  Ten  years  had  transferred  the  child 
rescuer  to  a  most  lovely  woman.  It  was  the  same 
sweet,  pretty  face,  but  matured  to  beautiful  and 
glorious  womanhood.  After  a  moment  of  bewil 
derment,  he  gasped: 

"Alice!" 

"I  know  you, "she  answered.  "I  have  not  for 
gotten  you." 

"And  I  would  be  guilty  of  the  basest  ingrati 
tude,  did  I  ever  forget  you,"  he  returned. 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  seated  before  the 
cheerful  peat  fire,  pleasantly  conversing  of  the 


44 


THE   PILGRIMS. 


past.  Mathew  learned  that  Alice  was  the  only 
child  of  a  widow,  Sarah  White.  He  lingered 
several  days  at  the  widow's  cottage,  unable  to  tear 
himself  away.  The  envoys  had  long  since  returned 


THEY  WERE  SEATED  BEFORE  THE  CHEERFUL  PEAT  FIRE. 

to  Holland,  and  when  he  finally  took  his  leave  for 
Ley  den,  the  face  of  Alice  was  so  firmly  engraven 
on  his  heart  that  time  could  never  efface  it. 
Mathew  Stevens  was  in  love. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE      MAYFLOWER. 

The  grand  old  ship,  so  staunch  and  true, 
One  autumn  day  with  breezes  free, 
Sailed  on  and  on,  sailed  out  to  sea, 

Mid  dancing  waves  and  skies  of  blue ; 

And  fair  as  diamonds  kissed  with  dew, 

Shone  sparkling  eyes  of  lovely  hue. 

—WARDER. 

"!T  is  always  darkest  before  dawn."  Often 
when  on  the  verge  of  despair,  when  all  hope  is 
abandoned,  relief  comes  from  an  unexpected  quar 
ter,  and  the  poor,  disheartened  pilgrim  on  earth  is 
elevated  to  joy  almost  supreme.  If,  at  the  close 
of  1618,  it  seemed  impossible  for  the  Pilgrims 
ever  to  make  terms  with  their  countrymen  for 
establishing  a  colony  in  the  New  World,  a  year 
later  found  the  obstacles  to  the  enterprise  rapidly 
rolling  away.  Sir  Edwin  Sandys,  a  stanch  friend, 
had  been  elected  treasurer  of  the  London  Company. 
Under  him,  so  writes  one  of  their  number,  the 
members  of  the  company  in  open  court  "  demanded 
our  ends  of  going;  which,  being  related,  they 

45 


46  THE   PILGRIMS. 

said  the  thing  was  of  God,  and  granted  a  large 
patent."  As  the  patent  was  taken  in  the  name 
of  one  who  failed  to  accompany  the  expedition,  it 
was  never  of  any  service;  and,  besides,  the  Pil 
grims,  after  investing  all  their  own  means,  had  not 
sufficient  capital  to  execute  their  schemes. 

It  seemed  as  if,  after  all,  their  plans  must  fall 
through.  In  this  dire  extremity,  Mr.  Eobinson 
began  to  look  for  aid  to  the  Dutch.  He  and  his 
people  and  their  friends,  to  the  number  of  four 
hundred  families,  professed  themselves  inclined  to 
emigrate  to  the  country  on  the  Hudson  and  to 
plant  a  new  commonwealth  under  the  command  of 
the  Stadholder  and  the  States-general.  The  West 
India  Company  was  willing  to  transport  them  with 
out  charge,  and  to  furnish  them  with  cattle,  if 
"that  people  would  go  under  them."  The  direc 
tors  petitioned  the  States-general  to  promise  protec 
tion  to  the  enterprise  against  all  violence  from  other 
potentates;  but  such  a  promise  was  contrary  to 
the  policy  of  the  Dutch  government  and  was 
refused. 

The  members  of  the  church  at  Leyden  were  not 
shaken  in  their  purpose  of  removing  to  America, 
and,  ceasing  "to  meddle  with  the  Dutch,  or  to 
depend  too  much  on  the  Virginia  Company,"  they 
trusted  to  their  own  resources  and  the  aid  of  pri 
vate  friends.  The  fisheries  had  commended  Ameri- 


THE  MAYFLOWER.  47 

can  expeditions  to  English  merchants;  and  the 
agents  from  Ley  den  were  able  to  form  a  partner 
ship  between  their  employers  and  men  of  business 
in  London.  The  services  of  each  emigrant  were 
rated  as  a  capital  of  ten  pounds,  and  belonged  to 
the  company.  All  profits  were  to  be  reserved  till 
the  end  of  seven  years,  when  the  whole  amount 
and  all  houses  and  lands,  gardens  and  fields  were  to 
bu  divided  among  the  share-holders  according  to 
their  respective  interests.  The  London  merchant, 
who  risked  one  hundred  pounds,  would  receive  for 
his  money  tenfold  more  than  the  penniless  laborer 
for  his  services.  This  arrangement  was  a  seven 
years'  check  to  the  pecuniary  prosperity  of  the  com 
munity;  yet,  as  it  did  not  interfere  with  their  civil 
rights  or  religion,  it  did  not  intimidate  them. 
Meanwhile,  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  engaged 
before  in  the  old  patent  for  North  Virginia  were 
seeking  a  new  and  separate  patent  of  incorporation 
for  New  England,  under  the  style  and  title  of  the 
council  established  at  Plymouth,  in  the  county  of 
Devon,  for  the  planting,  ruling  or  ordering  and 
governing  of  New  England  in  America,  which  be 
came  the  civil  basis  of  all  future  patents  and  plan 
tations  that  divided  that  country.  This  patent  they 
at  last  obtained  from  King  James;  but  it  was  not 
signed  by  the  king  until  long  after  the  Pilgrims 
had  set  sail,  not,  indeed,  until  November  3d,  1620, 


48  THE   PILGRIMS. 

just  before  the  Mayjloiver  anchored  in  Cape  Cod 
harbor.  Thus  the  Pilgrims  were  landed  in  New 
England  unchartered  by  any  earthly  power,  and 
took  possession  at  Plymouth  of  their  desired  retreat 
in  the  wilderness,  in  full  liberty  of  conscience, 
unpatented  and  unfettered. 

It  was  the  evening  before  the  departure  from 
Leyden.  Mr.  Robinson  was  in  his  study  with 
Mathew  Stevens.  It  had  been  decided  that  Mr. 
Brewster,  the  ruling  elder,  should  go  with  the  emi 
grating  Pilgrims,  and  Mr.  .Robinson,  the  pastor, 
was  to  remain  at  Leyden  with  the  congregation. 
Mathew  Stevens  had  decided  to  go  with  the  first, 
and  begin  building  a  home  which  he  hoped  to 
share  with  Alice  White. 

"I  go  to-morrow  to  brave  the  dangers  of  the 
ocean  and  unknown  perils  of  the  wilderness,"  said 
Stevens  to  Mr.  Robinson.  "Perchance  we  may 
never  meet  again,  and  I  beseech  you  to  tell  me 
now  the  story  of  my  life." 

"I  have  detained  you,  Mathew,  to  narrate  as 
much  of  it  as  I  know." 

The  young  Puritan  was  all  attention,  and  the 
pastor  began: 

"It  was  early  in  the  year,  1587,  that  I  chanced 
to  be  in  Plymouth.  Sir  Francis  Drake  had  just 
returned  from  the  West  Indies  from  one  of  his 
piratical  expeditions.  It  had  been  one  of  his  most 


THE   MAYFLOWER.  49 

brilliant  voyages.  He  had  sacked  towns  and  hum 
bled  a  nation  by  'singeing  the  beard  of  the  Spanish 
king,'  that  is,  burning  the  royal  fleet  in  their  own 
harbor.  He  had  ravaged  the  West  Indies  and 
sailed  up  the  coast  of  Florida,  reducing  every 
Spanish  fort  he  could  find.  Among  the  cities 
destroyed  was  St.  Augustine,  founded  by  Melen- 
dez  fifty-five  years  before.  From  one  who  had 
been  on  board  the  admiral's  ship,  I  learned  that  he 
had  brought  two  little  boys  from  St.  Augustine. 
From  their  dress  and  manner  it  was  supposed  that 
they  were  children  of  respectable  parents.  I  be 
came  so  interested  in  them  that  one  day  I  went  to 
see  them.  The  oldest  was  a  bright  little  fellow, 
not  over  five  or  six  years  of  age,  but  with  the 
intelligence  of  one  twice  as  old.  He  could  only 
converse  in  Spanish  and  we  had  a  very  poor  inter 
preter.  I  learned,  however,  that  his  father's  name 
was  Francisco  Estevan,  that  his  mother's  name  was 
Hortense,  and  that  the  parents  were  temporarily 
from  home  when  Drake  attacked  the  town.  The 
boy,  Philip  Estevan,  was  your  brother.  Mattheo 
Estevan  (Mathew  Stevens  in  English)  was  yourself. 
"  Drake  was  anxious  to  dispose  of  the  children, 
as  well  as  an  old  chest  taken  at  their  house,  which 
contained  a  manuscript  written  evidently  by  your 
father,  which  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  an  autobi 
ography.  For  any  one  who  would  pay  the  passage 
4 


50  THE  PILGRIMS. 

of  the  boys,  and  ten  pounds  for  the  old  chest, 
Drake  agreed  to  turn  over  the  children.  I  lacked 
a  few  pounds  of  having  the  required  amount,  and 
went  to  London  to  borrow  some  from  some  friends. 
When  I  returned,  Philip,  your  brother,  had  been 
taken  away  by  a  man  named  Henry  Francis. 
Though  I  made  many  inquiries  for  him,  I  only 
learned  that  he  sailed  away  in  a  vessel  to  some 
part  of  the  New  World.  I  paid  the  price  of  your 
voyage,  gave  ten  pounds  for  the  old  chest  and  con 
tents,  and  took  you  to  live  with  me.  The  old  chest 
and  the  strange  Spanish  manuscript,  I  sent  on 
board  the  Speedwell.  They  may,  I  trust,  prove  the 
key  for  unlocking  your  past." 

"Do  you  know  no  more?"  asked  Mathew. 

"Nothing.  I  have  endeavored  to  learn  all  I 
could,  but  have  been  unable  to  find  out  anything 
more.  I  have  ever  endeavored  to  fill  the  place  of 
the  father  you  lost." 

"And  you  have,"  Mathew  quickly  answered. 

Next  day  was  the  memorable  21st  of  July,  1G20, 
the  day  on  which  the  English  voyagers  left  Ley- 
den,  where  they  had  lived  for  nearly  twelve  years, 
and  were  accompanied  by  their  brethren  to  Delph- 
haven  where  their  ship  lay  ready  to  sail.  Many  of 
their  friends  came  from  Leyden  and  Amsterdam  to 
take  a  last  farewell  of  the  departing  emigrants. 
Among  others  came  Hans  Van  Brunt,  accompanied 


THE   MAYFLOWER.  51 

by  his  "peerless  Katherine,"  to  bid  a  last  adieu  to 
his  friend  Mathew  Stevens  and  assure  him  that  he 
would  soon  be  able  to  join  him  and  the  other  Pil 
grims  in  the  New  World.  Next  day,  July  22d, 
1620,  the  wind  was  fair,  and  the  Pilgrims  went 
aboard,  accompanied  by  a  great  number  of  their 
friends.  Mathew  Stevens  did  not  leave  Holland 
without  some  regrets.  It  had  proved  an  asylum 
for  himself  and  his  friends  when  persecutions  forced 
them  to  abandon  their  own  country.  His  foster 
father,  Mr.  Robinson,  embraced  him  and  with  tears 
said: 

"My  son,  I  commend  you  to  God;  ever  trust 
him  in  your  darkest  hours." 

Before  leaving  the  ship,  Mr.  Robinson  kneeled 
upon  the  deck,  and  offered  up  a  most  fervent 
prayer,  which  the  most  skeptical  could  hardly 
claim  did  not  reach  the  throne  of  grace.  Then  the 
good  pastor,  as  if  anticipating  their  high  destiny 
and  the  sublime  lessons  of  liberty  which  would 
grow  out  of  their  religious  tenets,  gave  them  a 
farewell,  breathing  a  freedom  of  opinion  and  an 
independence  of  authority  such  as  to  them  were 
hardly  known  in  the  world. 

"I  charge  you,  before  God  and  his  blessed 
angels,  that  you  follow  me  no  further  than  you  see 
me  follow  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  Lord  has 
more  truth  yet  to  break  forth  of  his  holy  word.  I 


52  THE    PILGRIMS. 

cannot  sufficiently  bewail  the  condition  of  the  re 
formed  churches,  who  are  come  to  a  period  in 
religion,  and  will  go  at  present  no  further  than  the 
instruments  of  their  reformation.  Luther  and  Cal 
vin  were  great  and  shining  lights  in  their  times; 
yet  they  penetrated  not  into  the  whole  counsel  of 
God.  I  beseech  you,  remember  it — 'tis  an  article 
of  your  church  covenant,  that  you  be  ready  to 
receive  whatever  truth  shall  be  made  known  to 
you  from  the  written  word  of  God." 

A  prosperous  gale  was  blowing  and  the  master 
of  the  ship  was  anxious  to  sail.  Mr.  Kobinson 
and  those  designed  to  remain  took  a  last  farewell 
of  the  emigrants  and  went  on  shore.  Before  leav 
ing  the  ship,  he  once  more  clasped  Mathew's  hand 
and  murmured  a  fervent  "God  bless  you!" 

With  a  fair  breeze  they  reached  Southampton. 
Mr.  Keinolds,  the  master  of  the  Speedwell^  said 
that  the  ship  was  leaking  and  that  he  doubted  if 
she  would  be  able  to  cross  the  Atlantic;  but 
others  urged  that  she  could  make  the  voyage.  At 
Southampton,  they  found  the  Mayflower  from 
London,  Mr.  Jones  master,  with  the  remainder  of 
the  company,  who  had  been  waiting  there  with  Mr. 
Cushman  for  seven  days.  All  was  bustle,  confu 
sion  and  eagerness  to  sail.  The  excitement  and 
adventure  promised  in  pushing  out  into  new  and 
unexplored  regions  thrilled  and  electrified  the  emi- 


THE   MAYFLOWER.  53 

grant.  New  scenes,  new  hopes  and  aspirations, 
with  unknown  and  untried  possibilities,  lent  a  sort 
of  speculative  enchantment  to  the  very  idea  of 
emigration.  Seven  hundred  pounds  sterling  were 
invested  at  Southampton  for  tools,  farming  imple 
ments,  arms  and  ammunition,  and  they  had  seven 
teen  hundred  pounds  to  carry  with  them.  Mr. 
Western  came  from  London  to  see  them  well  on 
their  voyage. 

Mathew  Stevens  hurried  on  board  the  May 
flower,  hoping  to  find  Alice  White  aboard  the 
ship.  Mrs.  White  was  a  Puritan,  and  had  ex 
pressed  her  intention  to  go  to  the  New  World. 
Whether  she  intended  going  with  the  first  that 
sailed,  or  waiting  until  a  settlement  had  been 
established,  Mathew  was  not  certain.  Reaching 
the  deck  of  the  Mayflower,  Mathew  was  hurrying 
to  the  after  part  of  the  ship,  when  he  suddenly 
encountered  a  person  who  caused  him  to  start 
back  in  alarm.  That  bullet  head,  those  small, 
mischievous  eyes  and  round,  bloated  face  covered 
with  stubby  beard,  he  could  never  forget.  It  was 
Francis  Billington,  his  former  captor  and  jailer. 
The  malignant  grin  on.  his  evil  face  revealed  his 
ugly  teeth,  blackened  with  tobacco  smoke  and 
neglect. 

"Well,  comrade,  are  we  bound  on  the  same 
voyage?"  Billington  asked,  after  the  momentary 


54  THE   PILGRIMS. 

surprise  at  the  first  meeting  had  somewhat  sub 
sided. 

"Why  are  you  here?"  asked  the  astounded 
Mathew. 

"Have  no  fear,  mate;  have  no  fear.  True,  ye 
handled  me  rather  roughly  in  London ;  but  I  for 
give  ye,  seeing  we  are  to  be  comrades  in  adven 
turing  into  the  New  World." 

"Are  you  going  to  America?" 

"Eight  ye  are,  if  ye  say  as  much.  Let  us  bury 
all  differences  and  be  friends." 

As  he  spoke,  Billington  advanced,  with  one 
dirty,  bloated  hand  outstretched,  as  if  to  make 
peace  with  his  enemy. 

"No!  no!  I  never  knew  you,"  cried  Mathew, 
placing  his  hands  behind  his  back.  "You  are 
not  a  Pilgrim,  but  one  of  our  persecutors,  and  you 
have  no  right  on  board." 

"Wherefore  would  ye  deny  me  the  privilege  of 
visiting  that  goodly  country'?" 

Mathew  did  not  care  to  hold  a  conversation  with 
him  and,  turning  abruptly  around,  walked  to  the 
foremost  part  of  the  ship,  where  he  found  Mr. 
Cushman  with  Mr.  Weston. 

"How  came  the  man  Billington  aboard?" 
Mathew  asked. 

For  a  moment  both  were  silent,  and  then  Mr. 
Cushman  answered: 


THE   MAYFLOWER.  55 

"He  smuggled  his  way  aboard  before  we  left 
London.  Do  you  know  aught  of  him?" 

"  Only  that  if  he  be  not  a  knave,  his  face  greatly 
belies  him." 

"If  you  have  only  his  face  to  accuse  him,  there 
maybe  room  for  mistake,"  put  in  Mr.  Weston; 
but  neither  Mr.  Weston  nor  Mr.  Cushman  were 
prepossessed  with  the  man. 

•'I  will  warrant  that  he  is  an  arrant  knave,"  said 
the  latter. 

"So  will  I,"  added  Mathew. 

"Have  you  ever  met  him  before?"  Mr.  Weston 
asked. 

"I  have,"  answered  Mathew. 

"When?" 

"First  on  that  dark  and  gloomy  night  when  the 
women  and  children  were  arrested  at  Lincolnshire, 
in  1608." 

"Was  he  there?" 

"He  was  one  of  the  captors  and  afterward 
"became  my  guard,  from  whom  I  escaped.  Only 
two  years  ago,  he  tried  to  arrest  me  in  London  and 
carry  me  back  to  Lincolnshire;  but  I  struck  him 
and  escaped.  I  believe  he  is  one  whom  we  would 
do  well  to  rid  ourselves  of." 

All  the  while,  the  basilisk  eyes  of  Francis  Bil- 
lington  were  watching  the  youth,  while  a  frown  of 
displeasure  gathered  on  his  hideous  face.  The  bad 


56  THE   PILGRIMS. 

morals  of  the  Billingtons,  father  and  son,  were 
destined  to  occasion  more  anxiety  to  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  than  all  other  members  of  the  colony. 
They  were  the  tares  sown  with  the  wheat.  No 
company,  however  carefully  selected,  can  be  free 
from  the  evils  of  the  human  race.  As  an  evi 
dence  of  what  an  alarming  hold  sin  has  upon  the 
children  of  men,  Christ  selected  but  twelve  to 
be  his  apostles,  and  there  was  a  Judas  among 
them. 

Mathew  knew  not  that  the  murderous  eyes  of 
the  villain  were  on  him,  and  that  his  ears  drank 
in  every  word  he  said.  When  he  turned  from  Mr. 
Cushman  and  descended  into  a  boat  to  go  ashore, 
the  cunning  gray  c}Tes  followed  him.  lie  was 
wandering  about  the  town,  when,  in  a  dark  and 
unfrequented  alley,  he  suddenly  and  most  unex 
pectedly  encountered  Francis  Billington. 

"I  heard  what  ye  said,"  Billington  remarked  in 
a  voice  which  trembled  with  suppressed  passion. 
"Ye  would  malign  me  to  the  officers  of  the  colony. 
Have  I  not  offered  ye  my  friendship?" 

Mathew  turned  away  with  loathing  and  disgust. 
The  friendship  of  such  a  man  as  Billington  was 
not  a  thing  to  be  desired.  He  instinctively  hated 
the  monster. 

"  So  ye  will  not  speak  with  me?"  snarled  Billing 
ton,  and,  leaping  at  the  young  man,  he  seized  his 


THE   MAYFLOWER. 


57 


arm.      "By  the  mass!    ye    shall   be   more  agree 
able." 

The  blood  in  Mathew's  veins  seemed  all  on  fire, 
and,  turning  quickly  about,  he  struck  him  a  blow 
with  his  clenched  list,  which  sent  him  sprawling  to 
the  ground.  In  a  moment  the  angry  man  regained 
his  feet  and,  whipping  out  his  dagger,  leaped  at 
his  adversary;  but  Mathew,  who  was  full  as  quick 
as  he,  met  him  with  drawn 
sword  and,  by  a  dexterous 
undcrstroke,  disarmed  his 
antagonist. 

"Neatly  done  !  quite 
neatly  done!  "  cried  an 
honest  voice  near. 

The  combatants  paused 
and  gazed  in  astonishment 
at  a  man  who  had  come 
upon  the  scene.  He  was 
about  thirty-five  years  of 
age,  short  of  stature,  but  strongly  built,  clad  in 
doublet  and  hose  and  boots  of  cordovan  leather. 
He  also  wore  a  sword  at  his  side.  It  was  more 
the  sword  of  a  warrior  than  a  gentleman,  for  the 
strong  blade  had  seen  hard  service.  The  look  of 
admiration  which  overspread  his  face  at  witnessing 
the  young  Spaniard's  skill  was  strong  evidence 
that  he  appreciated  a  good  swordsman. 


FRANCIS  BILLINGTON. 


58  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"Neatly  done,  by  the  mass!"  the  stranger  re 
peated.  "Nor  could  you  be  blamed  if  you  ran 
him  through." 

Billington  heard  this  unpleasant  remark,  and, 
realizing  that  the  tables  were  turned,  picked  up 
his  dagger  and  slunk  away.  When  he  was  gone 
the  stranger,  who  had  been  a  witness  of  the  scene, 
came  to  Mathew,  and,  taking  his  hand,  added: 

"I  admire  your  skill!  Tell  rne  your  name,  for 
brave  men  in  England  are  not  so  plentiful  in  these 
latter  days  that  one  need  not  know  all." 

Though  covered  with  confusion  at  this  bit  of 
flattery,  Mathew  answered: 

"I  am  Mathew  Stevens,  and  have  lived  with  Mr. 
Robinson  at  Leyden." 

"You  are  a  Pilgrim?" 

"I  am." 

"Do  you  go  in  the  Mayflower?" 

"I  sail  in  the  Speedwell.'''' 

"I  regret  it  is  not  the  Mayfloiuer,  for  I  belong  to 
that  vessel." 

"Are  you  a  Puritan?" 

"No;  I  am  a  soldier;  but  my  sympathies  are 
with  the  Puritans.  My  name  is  Miles  Standish, 
who,  returning  from  the  wars  in  Flanders,  joined 
the  Pilgrims.  I  remember  seeing  the  knave  you 
so  recently  punished  on  our  way  from  London." 

"He  would  go  to  America." 


THE  MAYFLOWER.  59 

"  It  will  not  be  a  lucky  day  for  the  colony  when 
Francis  Billington  becomes  a  member  of  it.  Such 
a  man  would  destroy  the  harmony  of  the  entire 
company." 

Mathew  Stevens  and  Miles  Standish  at  once  be 
came  fast  friends.  The  young  Spaniard  also 
formed  the  acquaintance  of  John  Alden,  a  young 
cooper  from  London,  who  was  a  friend  of  Captain 
Standish. 

As  for  Billington,  he  disappeared  in  some  man 
ner,  and  there  were  many  among  the  Pilgrims  who 
hoped  that  he  would  not  join  them  again. 

On  the  27th  of  July,  Mr.  Carver  received  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Robinson.  Many  others  also  received 
letters  from  friends,  among  them  being  a  missive 
from  honest  Hans  to  Mathew,  wishing  him  a  safe 
voyage  and  assuring  him  that  he  and  Katherine 
would  some  day  be  citizens  of  the  Dutch  posses 
sions  on  the  Hudson.  On  this  day  the  Pilgrims 
were  distributed  in  the  two  ships,  and,  with  the 
consent  of  the  masters,  or  captains,  chose  a  governor 
and  two  assistants  for  each,  "to  order  the  people 
and  provisions." 

On  the  fifth  of  August  they  set  sail  from  South 
ampton  ;  but  before  they  had  gone  five  leagues  Mr. 
Remolds,  commander  of  the  Speedwell,  complained 
that  his  ship  was  leaking,  and  he  dared  not  go  any 
further.  Both  of  the  vessels  were  therefore  com- 


60  THE   PILGRIMS. 

pelled  to  put  into  Dartmouth  about  August  13th, 
1620.  Here  the  vessel  was  overhauled,  and  it 
was  supposed  the  leaks  were  all  stopped.  On  the 
21st  of  August  they  set  sail  from  Dartmouth. 
Mathew  Stevens,  who  was  still  aboard  the  Speed 
well,  now  hoped  that  she  would  make  the  voyage; 
but  in  this  he  and  all  the  others  were  disappointed. 
They  had  not  gone  above  a  hundred  leagues  from 
Landsend,  England,  when  the  master  of  the  Speed 
well  again  discovered  that  his  ship  was  leaking. 
When  Mathew' s  attention  was  called  to  the  fact, 
he  asked: 

"Can  we  not  stop  it?" 

"Not  at  sea;  we  must  return  or  sink,"  the  mas 
ter  declared.  "We  can  hardly  free  her  by  con 
stant  pumping." 

Consequently  both  vessels  put  back  to  Plym 
outh,  and  the  Speedwell  was  again  overhauled, 
"where,  finding  no  defect,  they  judged  her  leaki- 
ness  owing  to  her  general  weakness."  They  there 
fore  decided  to  abandon  the  Speedwell  as  unsea- 
worthy,  and  all  those  who  were  willing  might  return 
to  London  in  her.  It  was  very  discouraging  to 

*j  O         O 

the  Pilgrims,  especially  Mr.  Cushman,  whom  they 
were  compelled  to  leave  behind. 

Mathew  Stevens  and  the  heavy  oak  chest,  with 
the  few  relics  it  contained,  were  taken  aboard  the 
Mayflower.  He  immediately  renewed  his  ac- 


THE   MAYFLOWER.  61 

quaintance  with  Captain  Miles  Standish,  his  good 
wife,  Rose  Standish,  and  their  friend,  John  Alden. 

On  the  6th  of  September,  after  another  sad 
parting,  the  Mayfloioer  set  sail  alone  on  her 
memorable  voyage,  bearing  on  board  the  germs  of 
a  mighty  commonwealth.  They  were  scarcely  well 
at  sea,  when  they  were  struck  by  a  sudden  storm 
ami  cross  winds,  which  for  days  forced  them  to 
sail  under  bare  poles. 

It  was  on  the  third  night  at  sea,  when  the.  storm 
was  raging  fiercely,  that  Mathew  Stevens,  who  was 
on  deck,  became  conscious  of  the  near  proximity 
of  some  disagreeable  object.  He  knew  not  who  or 
what  it  was;  but  of  one  thing  he  was  certain,  and 
that  was  that  he  had  a  strong  aversion  for  it.  He 
saw  a  dark  form  at  his  side;  but  the  ship's  lantern 
swaying  at  the  mizzen  was  too  far  away  to  reveal 
the  features  of  the  man.  The  heavens  were  at 
this  moment  illuminated  by  a  blaze  of  electrical 
fire,  revealing  to  his  astonished  gaze  the  shrinking 
form  of  Francis  Billington. 

"Why  did  you  come?"  cried  Mathew,  seizing 
him  by  the  shoulder. 

"My  good  friend,  would  ye  throw  me  over 
board?" 

"No;  but  why  did  you  come?" 

"I  want  to  begin  a  new  life  in  a  new  world," 
and  with  these  words  he  slunk  away  to  his  quarters. 


62  THE   PILGRIMS. 

For  several  days  they  were  unable  to  carry  any 
sail,  the  vessel's  uppers  were  very  leaky,  and  a 
main  beam  lost  its  place  and  struck  her  in  the  mid 
ships,  which  so  alarmed  the  Pilgrims,  that  the 
principal  men  of  the  company  began  to  discuss 
with  the  captain  of  the  Mayflower,  the  propriety 
of  returning  to  England.  Mathew,  however, 
declared  that  he  was  carpenter  enough  to  remedy 
the  wrong.  He  had  brought  a  large  screw  with 
him  from  Holland,  and  by  means  of  it  they  raised 
the  beam  to  its  place. 

On  November  Gth,  William  Butten,  a  servant 
of  Mr.  Fuller,  died;  this  was  the  only  death  during 
the  voyage. 

At  daybreak  on  the  9th  of  November,  after  a 
long  and  tempestuous  voyage,  they  came  in  sight 
of  land  at  Cape  Cod.  They  stood  southward.  So 
little  did  they  know  of  the  coast  that  they  expected 
to  find  some  place  about  the  Hudson  Eiver  for  a 
settlement;  but  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours  they 
found  themselves  among  dangerous  shoals,  and 
were  compelled  to  return  to  the  cape  harbor,  where 
they  rode  in  safety. 

On  the  llth  of  November,  they  determined  to 
seek  a  location  in  New  England.  Their  design 
and  patent,  however,  being  for  Virginia  and  not 
New  England,  which  belonged  to  another  jurisdic 
tion,  with  which  the  Virginia  Company  had  no 


THE   MAYFLOWER.  63 

concern,  they  decided  before  landing  that  they 
would  this  day  combine  themselves  into  a  body 
politic  by  a  solemn  compact,  to  which  they  set  their 
hands,  as  the  basis  of  their  government  in  this  new 
found  country,  which  was  as  follows,  word  for  word : 

IN  THE  NAME  OF  GOD,  AMEN.  We,  whose  names  are 
here  underwritten,  the  loyal  subjects  of  our  dread  sover 
eign  lord,  King  James,  by  the  grace  of  God,  of  Great 
Britain,  France,  and  Ireland,  defender  of  the  faith,  hav 
ing  undertaken,  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  advancement  of 
the  Christian  faith,  and  honor  of  our  king  and  country,  a 
voyage  to  plant  the  first  colony  in  the  northern  part  of 
Virginia,  do  by  these  presents  solemnly  and  mutually  in 
the  presence  of  God  and  one  another,  covenant  and  com 
bine  ourselves  together  into  a  civil  body  politic,  for  our 
better  ordering  and  preservation,  and  furtherance  of  the 
ends  aforesaid;  and  by  virtue  hereof  to  enact,  constitute, 
and  frame  such  just  and  equal  laws,  ordinances,  acts,  con 
stitutions,  and  offices,  from  time  to  time,  as  shall  be 
thought  most  mete  and  convenient  for  the  general  good  of 
the  colony,  unto  which  we  promise  all  due  submission 
and  obedience.  In  witness  whereof  we  have  hereunder 
subscribed  our  names.  Cape  Cod,  llth  November,  in  the 
year  of  the  reign  of  our  sovereign  lord  King  James  of 
England,  France,  and  Ireland,  18,  and  of  Scotland  54, 
Anno  Domini,  1620. 

Mr.  John  Carver,  Stephen  Hopkins, 

Mr.  William  Brewster,     Francis  Cook, 
John  Alden,  John  Ridgdale, 

Mr.  Wm.  Mullins,  Francis  Eaton, 

Mr.  John  Howland,  Mr.  Edward  Winslow, 

John  Tilly,  Capt.  Miles  Standish, 

Thomas  Tinker,  Mr.  Christopher  Martin, 

John  Turner,  Mr.  Richard  Warren, 

William  Bradford,  Edward  Tilly, 

Mr.  Isaac  Allerton,  Thomas  Rodgers, 

Mr.  Samuel  Fuller,  Edward  Fuller, 

Mr.  Wm.  White,  James  Chilton. 


64  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Francis  Billington,  not  being  a  Pilgrim,  and 
having  already  shown  a  spirit  at  rebellion  with 
God  and  man,  was  not  permitted  to  enter  into  the 
compact.  There  was  a  warm  discussion  as  to 
whether  Mathew  Stevens  should  not  also  become 
a  partner  to  it.  Captain  Miles  Standish  and  John 
Alden  favored  his  being  a  charter  member,  but 
Fuller  and  Winslow  opposed  it  on  account  of  his 
Spanish  blood  and  supposed  Catholic  ancestry. 

At  this  period  in  the  world's  history,  the  Span 
iards  were  heartily  hated  by  the  English,  and  not 
withstanding  Mathew  had  been  carefully  brought 
up  by  their  beloved  pastor,  he  had  the  blood  of  the 
Spaniard  in  his  veins,  and  was  known  to  possess 
the  fiery  nature  of  a  son  of  the  tropics,  consequently 
his  name  does  not  appear  in  the  compact. 


CIIAPTEE  IV. 

PLYMOUTH      K  O  C  K  . 

The  breaking  waves  dashed  high 

On  a  stern  and  rock -bound  coast, 
And  the  woods  against  a  stormy  sky 

Their  giant  branches  tossed  : 
And  the  heavy  night  hung  dark, 

The  hills  and  waters  o'er, 
When  a  band  of  exiles  moored  their  bark 

On  the  wild  New  England  shore. 

—MRS.  HEMANS. 

WOOD,  the  only  fuel  used  on  the  Mayflower, 
was  exhausted,  and  on  the  day  that  the  compact 
was  signed,  it  was  decided  to  send  some  of  the 
men  ashore  to  gather  fuel.  Mathew  Stevens  vol 
unteered  to  lead  the  party  into  the  forest,  so  he 
landed  with  fifteen  others,  all  well  armed,  with  the 
double  purpose  of  exploring  the  shore  and  bringing 
in  wood.  They  discovered  that  they  were  on  a 
small  neck  of  land.  On  the  side  where  their  vessel 
lay  was  the  bay,  and  on  the  farther  side  the  sea. 
The  soil  and  sand-hills  were  something  like  the 
Downs  of  Holland,  though  much  more  fertile. 
Holes,  sunk  into  the  earth  to  the  depth  of  three 
5  65 


66  THE    PILGRIMS. 

or  four  feet,  revealed  excellent  black  earth.  The 
shore  was  all  wooded  with  oaks,  pines,  sassafras, 
juniper,  birch,  holly,  vines,  some  ash  and  walnut. 
The  trees  were  large,  stately  and  almost  free  from 
underbrush,  so  that  one  could  drive  a  cart  through 
the  forest;  but  not  a  sign  of  a  person  or  a  habita 
tion  could  be  seen,  and  at  night  they  returned  with 
a  boat  load  of  sweet  smelling  juniper  wood. 

On  the  13th  of  November,  the  Pilgrims  un 
shipped  their  shallop  and  drew  it  on  land  to  re 
pair  some  damages  it  had  sustained,  for  they  had 
been  forced  to  cut  it  down  in  stowing  it  between 
decks.  From  strains  received  during  the  voyage, 
the  seams  of  the  shallop  also  had  been  started,  and 
it  took  the  carpenter  sixteen  or  seventeen  days  to 
repair  it.  The  Pilgrims,  wearied  with  their  long 
confinement  on  shipboard,  went  ashore  to  refresh 
themselves,  and  the  women  to  wash  their  clothes. 
While  waiting  for  the  carpenter  to  finish  his  work 
on  the  shallop,  some  of  the  Pilgrims  determined 
to  set  out  by  land  and  explore  the  country  for  a 
place  suitable  for  the  location  of  the  town.  Mr. 
Winslow  argued  that  there  was  a  harbor  near  the 
mouth  of  a  river. 

The  proposed  expedition  was  looked  upon  as 
dangerous,  and  was  permitted  rather  than  approved 
by  the  leading  men  of  the  Pilgrims.  With 
cautious  directions  and  instructions,  sixteen  men, 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  67 

among  whom  were  Mathew  Stevens  and  John  Al- 
den,  armed  with  muskets,  swords,  and  corselets,  set 
out  under  Captain  Miles  Standish.  To  the  sixteen 
were  added,  as  counsellors  and  advisers,  William 
Bradford,  Stephen  Hopkins,  and  Edward  Tilly. 

On  Wednesday,  November  loth,  this  party  was 
set  on  shore,  and,  forming  in  single  file,  with  Cap 
tain  Standish  in  front,  and  Mathew  Stevens  next, 
began  the  march  into  the  wilderness.  They  had 
not  gone  over  a  mile,  when  Mathew  Stevens,  who 
had  been  sent  ahead  a  few  rods  to  reconnoitre,  sud 
denly  halted  and  said: 

"I  see  five  or  six  people  with  a  dog,  coming 
toward  us." 

The  people  could  be  plainly  seen  by  all,  and 
the  Englishmen  asked  each  other  the  very  impor 
tant  question: 

"Who  are  they?" 

"Perchance,  it  is  Mr.  Jones,  the  master,  and 
some  of  the  sailors,"  suggested  Miles  Standish. 
"They  are  on  shore  and  know  of  our  coming." 

The  Pilgrims  continued  to  advance  toward  the 
strangers  until  they  were  themselves  discovered, 
and  then  they,  proving  to  be  savages,  turned  about 
and  ran  away  into  the  wood,  whistling  to  their  dog 
to  come  after  them.  Miles  Standish,  soldier-like, 
determined  to  make  a  bold  advance.  Command 
ing  his  men  to  quicken  their  pace,  they  hurried 


63  THE   PILGRIMS. 

after  the  Indians,  lest  others  should  lie  in  am 
bush.  When  the  Indians  saw  the  whites  following 
them,  they  ran  away  at  full  speed,  disappearing 
over  some  hills,  and  the  Pilgrims  turned  out  of  the 
wood  after  them  and  followed  their  trail  for  about 
ten  miles.  The  ground  was  soft  and  the  footprints 
made  a  trail  easy  to  follow.  During  the  afternoon, 
Mathew  pointed  out  an  Indian  spy  on  the  hill 
watching  them. 

Night  came  and  the  Pilgrim  band,  now  in  a  vast 
and  unknown  wilderness,  went  into  camp,  kindled 
a  watch  fire  and  set  three  sentinels.  Next  morn 
ing,  the  16th  of  November,  as  soon  as  it  was  light, 
they  set  out  once  more  on  the  Indians'  trail  and 
followed  it  until  they  reached  the  head  of  a  creek, 
where  the  Indians  entered  another  forest.  Miles 
Standish  and  his  party,  hoping  to  come  upon  some 
of  their  dwellings,  followed  after  them;  but, 
though  they  marched  over  hills  and  through  val 
leys,  forcing  their  way  through  jungles  and  thorns, 
which  almost  tore  their  armor  to  pieces,  they  found 
no  natives,  habitations,  nor  fresh  water  of  which 
they  so  much  stood  in  need;  for  they  had  brought 
neither  beer  nor  water  with  them,  and  their  only 
provisions  were  biscuit,  Holland  cheese,  and  a 
small  bottle  of  aquavittc.  They  were  suffering 
with  thirst;  but  all  the  water  they  had  so  far  found 
was  brackish  and  unfit  to  drink. 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  69 

About  ten  o'clock  they  came  to  a  deep  valley, 
full  of  brush-wood  and  long  grass.  Little  paths 
led  about  all  through  it,  no  doubt  having  been 
made  by  wild  animals  going  to  and  fro  in  search 
of  water.  At  last  they  came  upon  a  clear,  cold, 
fresh  spring.  A  wild  deer  was  drinking  at  it  and 
Mathew  raised  his  gun  to  shoot  it;  but  Captain 
Standish  forbade  his  doing  so. 

"  The  report  of  your  gun  would  give  notice  to  the 
Indians  that  we  are  here,  "the  captain  argued.  The 
deer  ran  away,  and  the  Pilgrims,  gathering  about 
the  spring,  knelt  down  and  tasted  the  clear,  cold, 
sweet  New  England  spring-water  fo]  the  first  time. 

When  they  had  slaked  their  thirst  and  refreshed 
themselves  with  a  short  rest,  they  directed  their 
course  south  that  they  might  come  to  the  shore, 
which  they  did  in  a  short  time  and,  according  to 
previous  arrangements,  built  a  fire,  that  the  ship 
might  know  where  they  were.  They  then  contin 
ued  their  march  toward  the  supposed  river  and  en 
tered  another  valley  in  which  was  a  line,  clear  pond 
of  fresh  \vater.  About  the  pond  was  a  dense  jun 
gle  of  tall  grass  and  vines,  haunted  by  the  wild  deer 
and  fowls.  Journeying  a  mile  or  so  further,  they 
came  upon  a  spot  of  about  fifty  acres  of  ground, 
which  bore  evidences  of  cultivation,  and  there  could 
be  no  doubt  that  Indians  had  planted  corn  there 
the  year  before. 


70  THE   PILGRIMS. 

A  little  further  on,  they  came  upon  heaps  of 
sand,  which  they  were  convinced  had  been  made 
by  human  hands.  One  of  the  heaps  was  covered 
with  mats,  and  had  a  wooden  mortar  on  the  top  of 
it,  with  an  earthen  pot  laid  in  a  little  hole  at  the 
end.  After  some  discussion  it  was  decided  to  dig 
into  the  heap  which  they  had  found.  By  doing  so 
they  came  upon  a  bow  and  some  arrows. 

"Evidently  it  is  the  grave  of  an  Indian,"  re 
marked  Mr.  Bradford.  "We  will  not  disturb 
them,  for  it  would  be  odious  unto  the  savages  to 
ransack  their  sepulchres." 

Advancing  still  further,  they  came  upon  some 
new  corn-stalks  from  which  the  corn  had  been  gath 
ered,  and  many  walnut  trees  full  of  nuts.  They 
passed  two  fields  and  came  to  a  third  in  which  a 
house  had  been,  and  where  four  or  five  planks 
placed  together  still  lay.  Here  they  found  a  great 
kettle,  which  evidently  had  belonged  to  some  ship. 
A  new  heap  of  sand  also  attracted  their  attention, 
and  digging  into  it  they  found  an  old  basket  full 
of  Indian  corn.  By  digging  a  little  further  they 
came  upon  a  large  Indian  basket  filled  with  beauti 
ful  Indian  corn  in  the  ear.  Some  was  yellow, 
some  red,  and  the  grains  of  others  were  mixed 
with  blue.  It  was  a  very  welcome  sight  to  the 
Pilgrims,  for  the  corn  would  furnish  them  with 
food  for  some  time.  A  sentry  was  placed  about 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  71 

the  heaps  of  buried  treasure  while  they  searched 
for  more.  They  placed  the  corn  in  the  kettle  to 
take  to  their  shallop,  intending,  if  their  owners 
came,  to  return  the  kettle  and  satisfy  them  for  the 
corn. 

Loaded  with  their  cereal  treasure,  they  resumed 
their  march  and  had  not  gone  far,  before  they 
came  upon  the  ruins  of  an  old  fort,  which  Miles 
Standish  said  had  been  built  by  Christians,  as  it 
was  undoubtedly  of  European  structure.  Near 
this  place  they  came  to  what  they  thought  to  be  a 
river,  but  which  they  found  to  be  two  arms  of  the 
sea,  divided  by  high  banks.  Here  also  they  dis 
covered  two  Indian  canoes,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
bank. 

Leaving  further  discovery  to  the  shallop,  they 
went  back  to  the  fresh  water  pond,  and,  building 
a  great  camp  fire,  made  a  barricade  to  windward 
and  kept  a  good  watch  with  three  sentinels  all 
night,  every  one  standing  as  his  turn  came,  with 
five  or  six  inches  of  match  in  his  gun  burning. 

It  rained  nearly  all  night.  Next  morning, 
November  17th,  as  the  kettle  was  very  heavy, 
they  sank  it  in  the  pond,  trimmed  their  muskets, 
for  some  of  them  had  become  damaged  with  the 
rain  and  damp,  and  started  along  the  coast  toward 
the  Mayflower. 

Marry!     What   be  this?"  asked  Miles   Stan- 


v. 


72  THE  PILGRIMS. 

dish,  suddenly  halting  where  a  young  sprout  was 
bent  over  a  bough,  and  some  acorns  were  under 
neath.  "That  never  grew  in  such  a  shape." 

"It  is  some  device  to  catch  deer,"  answered 
Stephen  Hopkins.  They  were  all  standing  look 
ing  at  it,  when  William  Bradford,  who  had  been 
lingering  behind  came  up. 

"What  do  you  gaze  at?"  he  asked. 

"This  strange  contrivance,"  answered  Hopkins. 

At  this  William  Bradford  kicked  it  with  his 
foot,  and  immediately  up  sprang  the  bush  and  a 
rope  formed  like  a  noose  caught  him  by  the  leg. 

"Help!  Help  me  out!  'Tis  a  trap,  a  trap!" 
cried  Mr.  Bradford,  struggling  to  free  himself. 

It  was  a  cunning  device,  made  with  a  rope  of 
the  Indians'  own  construction,  and  having  a  noose 
as  artistically  constructed  as  any  ropemaker  in 
England  could  have  done.  When  Mr.  Bradford's 
leg  was  jerked  up  in  the  air,  he  was  thrown  down 
upon  the  ground,  and  they  hastened  to  his  relief. 
After  he  was  released,  they  left  the  wood  and  went 
a  mile  above  the  creek  where  they  saw  three  bucks. 
Mathew  Stevens  shot  one  of  them.  Some  of  them 
having  a  fowling-piece  killed  three  brace  of  par 
tridges.  Great  flocks  of  wild  geese  and  ducks  were 
seen  along  the  water;  but  they  were  so  shy  that 
the  explorers  could  not  get  near  enough  for  a  shot. 
They  journeyed  on,  sometimes  in  the  wood,  some- 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK. 


73 


times  on  the  sandy  beach,  and  a  part  of  the  time 
wading  in  water  up  to  their  knees,  until  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  Mayflower.  They  fired  their 
pieces  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  ship,  and  a 


"HELP  ME  OUT!     'Tis  A  TRAP!" 

few  moments  later  they  saw  the  long  boat  put  out 
for  them.  Mr-.  Carver  and  Captain  Jones  with 
others,  being  on  shore  in  the  woods  near,  came  to 
meet  them. 

The  Pilgrims,  weary  with  their  long  tramp,  were 


74  THE   PILGRIMS. 

glad  to  be  once  more  on  board  the  Mayflower, 
which,  after  all,  was  a  haven  of  rest  compared 
with  the  wild,  desolate  shore  of  New  England. 
The  shallop  was  hardly  completed  before  another 
expedition  was  planned. 

On  the  27th  day  of  November,  twenty-four  Pil 
grims  under  Miles  Standish,  among  whom  was 
Mathew  Stevens,  were  appointed  to  make  a  more 
complete  discovery  of  the  shore.  To  the  twenty- 
four  armed  Pilgrims,  Captain  Jones  added  ten 
sailors  including  himself.  In  order  to  gratify  the 
master  of  the  ship,  he  was  made  their  leader. 
They  set  out  in  the  shallop  and  long  boat;  but  the 
weather  was  so  rougli  that  they  were  compelled  to 
row  to  the  nearest  shore  and  wade  out  into  the 
water,  which  came  above  their  knees.  The  wind 
was  so  strong  that  they  were  forced  to  take  the 
shallop  into  the  harbor  for  that  night;  though  they 
marched  six  or  seven  miles  further,  leaving  orders 
that  the  shallop  should  come  up  as  soon  as  she 
could.  The  wind  blew,  the  snow  fell,  and  it  was 
freezing  cold.  According  to  the  journal  of  the 
Pilgrims,  "some  of  the  people  that  died  took  the 
original  of  their  death  here." 

Next  day,  the  29th  of  November,  the  shallop 
came  up,  all  went  aboard,  and,  the  weather  being 
fair,  sailed  to  the  river  they  had  formerly  dis 
covered,  which  they  named  "'Cold  Harbor." 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  75 

Although  it  was  not  navigable  for  ships,  they 
thought  their  boats  might  ride  there  in  safety. 

Miles  Stan  dish,  with  twenty  men,  landed  and 
marched  some  four  or  five  miles,  while  the  shallop 
followed  up  the  creek.  Night  came,  and  the  men, 
wearied  with  marching  through  the  forests,  over 
rugged  hills  and  stony  valleys  covered  a  foot  deep 
with  snow,  were  anxious  to  go  into  camp.  Cap 
tain  Jones,  unaccustomed  to  such  toil  on  land,  de 
clared  that  he  would  go  no  further,  though  Miles 
Standish  and  Mathew  Stevens  wanted  to  press  on 
a  few  miles  further.  They  halted  under  a  large 
pine  tree,  built  a  great  watch  fire,  and  all  gathered 
round  it. 

Just  at  night,  Mathew  and  John  Alden  went  to 
a  pond  and  shot  three  fat  geese  and  six  ducks, 
which  made  a  good  supper  for  the  hungry  soldiers. 
Next  morning,  November  20th,  they  were  de 
terred  from  going  up  the  river  on  account  of  the 
high  hills,  so  they  turned  toward  the  other  creek 
and  went  over  to  look  for  a  spot  to  rest,  as  well 
as  for  the  corn  which  they  had  left  behind  when 
there  before.  When  they  reached  the  creek, 
they  found  the  canoe  lying  on  the  dry  ground,  and 
a  flock  of  geese  in  the  river.  Mathew  fired  his 
gun  and  killed  a  couple  of  them.  Mathew  and 
John  Alden  launched  the  canoe  and  brought  in  the 
dead  geese;  after  which  they  carried  the  rest  of 


76  THE   PILGRIMS. 

the  party  over  the  river  seven  or  eight  at  a  time. 
Having  landed  on  the  other  side,  they  once  more 
went  to  Corn  Hill,  or  the  place  where  they  had 
formerly  found  corn  and,  by  digging,  found  more. 

In  another  mound  was  found  a  bottle  of  oil  and 
more  corn,  in  a  third  were  three  baskets  full  of 
Indian  wheat,  and  a  bag  of  beans.  While  some 
were  unearthing  the  beans  and  wheat,  others  dis 
covered  more  corn  buried  in  the  sand,  so  they  took 
out  in  all  about  ten  bushels,  enough  to  furnish 
seed  for  the  whole  colony.  The  ground  at  this 
time  was  frozen  so  hard  that  they  were  compelled 
to  cut  down  into  it  a  foot  or  more  with  their  swords. 

Captain  Jones  grew  uneasy  at  the  threatening 
aspect  of  the  weather,  and  was  anxious  to  return 
to  his  ship.  For  several  days  the  captain  had  been 
insisting  that  the  Pilgrims  select  a  location  so  that 
he  might  sail  to  England. 

Captain  Jones,  with  Billington,  the  sailors,  and 
some  of  the  others,  returned  to  the  vessel;  but 
eighteen,  including  Bradford,  Standish,  and  Ste 
vens  remained  on  shore  with  instructions  that  the 
shallop  might  come  to  them  the  next  day  and  bring 
them  mattocks  and  spades. 

Next  day,  November  30th,  they  followed  a 
well-beaten  Indian  path,  supposing  that  it  would 
lead  them  to  some  Indian  town  or  house.  As  they 
advanced,  the  path  grew  broader  and  showed  evi- 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  77 

dences  of  having  been  recently  travelled.  Miles 
Stand ish  halted  his  men  and  addressed  to  them  a 
few  words  of  caution. 

"We  are  not  far  from  the  natives.  Whether 
they  will  meet  us  friendly  or  otherwise  we  know 
not;  but  I  deem  it  expedient  to  be  prepared  for 
the  worst,  so  light  your  matches." 

This  precaution  proved  unnecessary,  however, 
for  the  path  proved  to  be  only  a  deer  path,  made 
by  the  Indians  on  their  hunts.  No  houses  were 
found,  nor  signs  of  people,  and,  returning  another 
way,  they  found  a  mound  which  looked  like  a 
grave,  though  much  longer  and  larger.  It  was 
covered  with  boards.  After  a  long  deliberation, 
they  resolved  to  dig  into  it,  and,  doing  so,  they 
found  first  a  mat  and  under  it,  a  bow  and  then 
another  mat,  and  under  that  a  board,  finely  carved 
and  painted  with  three  tin  brooches  on  the  top, 
like  a  crown.  Between  the  mats  were  found 
bowls,  trays  and  dishes  and  like  trinkets.  At 
last  they  came  to  a  new  mat  and  under  that  two 
bundles,  "the  one  bigger,  the  other  less."  Open 
ing  the  larger  bundle  they  found  in  it  a  great 
quantity  of  fine  red  powder,  and  the  bones  and 
skull  of  a  man.  The  skull  had  fine  yellow  hair 
still  on  it  and  some  of  the  flesh  unconsumed. 
There  was  bound  up  with  it  a  knife,  a  packing 
needle,  and  two  or  three  old  iron  things.  It  was 


7s 


THE   PILGRIMS. 


bound  up  in  a  sailor's  canvas  cassock  and  a  pair 
of  cloth  breeches.  The  red  powder  was  a  kind 
of  balm,  yielding  a  pungent  but  not  offensive 
odor.  The  "  lesser  bundle"  on  being  opened  con 
tained  more  red  powder  and  the  bones  of  a  little 
child.  About  the  legs  and  other  parts  of  it  were 
found  strings  and  bracelets  of  fine  white  beads. 
There  was  also  by  it  a  little  bow,  three-quarters  of 
a  yard  long,  and  some  odd  toys.  The  Pilgrims 
carried  away  many  of  the  things,  but  covered  up 
the  skeleton  again.  Though  other  mounds  were 
searched,  no  more  corn  was  found. 

There  was  a  long  discussion  and  a  variety  of 
opinions  among  them  about  the  embalmed 
person.  Mr.  Bradford 
thought  it  was  an  In 
dian  lord  or  king; 
but  Miles  Stand  ish 
argued : 

"Indians  all  have 
long,  black  hair,  and 
never  was  one  seen 
with  brown  or  yellow 
hair.  It  is  more  likely 
a  Christian  of  some  special  note,  who  died  among 
them,  and  was  thus  buried  in  honor." 

"More  likely  they  killed  him,  and  did  it  in  tri 
umph  over  him,"  put  in  Mathew  Stevens. 


INDIAN  HUTS. 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  79 

While  roving  about,  they  espied  two  houses 
which  had  been  recently  occupied;  but  the  people 
were  now  gone.  The  houses  were  made  of  long 
poles,  or  young  sapling  trees  bent  and  both  ends 
stuck  in  the  ground.  They  were  arbor-shaped, 
and  covered  down  to  the  ground  with  thick  and 
well  made  mats,  and  the  door,  not  over  a  yard 
high,  consisted  of  a  mat  hung  so  it  would  open. 
A  wide  open  hole  in  the  top  marked  the  place 
where  the  smoke  escaped.  The  houses  were  high 
enough  for  a  tall  man  to  stand  erect  within  them. 
They  were  made  of  wicker-work,  or  matting,  so 
completely  and  neatly  that  they  turned  rain  as 
well  as  the  best  English  roof.  In  the  houses  were 
found  wooden  bowls,  trays  and  dishes,  earthen 
pots,  hand  baskets,  made  of  crab  shells  wrought 
together,  also  an  English  bucket.  There  were 
many  baskets,  large  and  small,  fine  and  plain. 

Two  or  three  deer  heads  were  found  in  one  of 
the  houses,  one  of  them  having  been  but  recently 
killed.  They  also  found  parched  acorns,  dried 
fish,  and  broiled  herring.  Some  venison  \vas  also 
found,  but  in  such  a  bad  state  of  decomposition, 
that  they  were  compelled  to  throw  it  away. 

They  took  some  of  the  best  things,  but  left  the 
houses,  and  then,  it  being  late  and  the  tide  being 
almost  out,  hastened  to  their  boat. 

"Why  not  make  this  our  abiding  place?"  sug- 


80  THE  PILGRIMS. 

gested  Mr.  Bradford.  "I  believe  it  best,  because, 
first,  there  is  a  convenient  harbor  for  boats, 
though  not  for  ships." 

"Secondly,"  put  in  Mathew,  "there  is  good 
corn -ground  ready  to  our  hands,  as  we  saw  by 
experience  in  the  goodly  corn  it  yielded,  which 
will  again  agree  with  the  ground,  and  be  natural 
seed  for  the  same. " 

."Thirdly,"  added  Mr.  Winslow,  "Cape  Cod  is 
like  to  be  a  place  of  good  fishing,  for  we  saw  daily 
great  whales  of  the  best  kind  for  oil  and  bone  come 
close  to  our  ship,  and  in  fair  weather  they  swim 
and  play  about  us.  There  was  once  one,  when 
the  sun  shone  warm,  that  came  and  lay  above 
water,  as  if  he  had  been  dead  for  a  good  while  to 
gether,  within  half  a  musket-shot  of  our  ship." 

As  a  fourth  argument,  Miles  Standish,  with  a 
military  eye  to  the  situation,  added  his  reason: 

"The  place  is  likely  to  be  healthful,  secure,  and 
defensible." 

The  most  special  reason  for  making  it  their  abid 
ing  place  was  that  they  were  in  the  midst  of 
winter,  and  unseasonable  weather  was  come  upon 
them,  so  that  coasting  for  a  more  suitable  place 
was  dangerous.  Cold  and  exposure  was  telling  on 
the  constitutions  of  the  stoutest  of  the  Pilgrims, 
for  scarcely  any  of  them  were  free  from  vehement 
coughs. 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  81 

Some  of  the  party  wanted  to  go  to  Augu-um, 
or  Agourn  (Aggawam,  Ipswich),  twenty  leagues 
north,  which  they  had  heard  possessed  an  excellent 
harbor  for  ships,  better  ground  and  better  fishing. 
There  might  also  be  better  water  near.  The  water 
they  had  found  was  only  in  ponds  and  must  be 
carried  up  a  steep  hill.  After  much  discussion  on 
the  matter,  it  was  decided  to  make  some  location 
within  the  bay.  When  they  returned  to  the  ship, 
Robert  Coppin,  the  pilot,  told  them  of  a  great  navi 
gable  river  and  good  harbor  in  the  other  headland 
of  the  bay,  almost  over  against  Cape  Cod,  being  in 
a  right  line,  but  not  more  than  eight  leagues 
distant.  lie  had  once  been  in  this  harbor,  and 
thought  it  the  best  place  for  planting  on  all  the 
coast. 

While  a  third  expedition  was  getting  ready  to 
set  out  to  explore  this  land,  Mrs.  White  gave  birth 
to  a  male  child,  which  was  named  Peregrine.  On 
the  same  day,  John  Billington,  son  of  Francis 
Billington,  who  with  his  father  had  sneaked  aboard 
the  vessel  at  London,  very  nearly  blew  up  the  May 
flower.  John,  like  his  father,  was  incorrigible. 
He  was  the  dread  of  the  ship,  and  in  open  rebel 
lion  to  all  laws.  Though  but  ten  or  twelve  years 
of  age,  he  stole  a  fowling-piece,  and  went  to  the 
cabin  to  learn  how  to  load  and  fire.  He  succeeded 
in  loading  it  and  lighting  the  match,  when  the  gun 


82  THE   PILGRIMS. 

was  accidentally  discharged,  scattering  the  fire  over 
the  floor. 

The  report  was  heard  on  deck,  and  Mr.  Brad 
ford  cried: 

"Who  hath  blown  up  the  ship?" 

Mathew  ran  to  the  cabin  and  beheld  the  young 
imp  with  the  gun  in  his  hand  and  some  bits  of 
burning  tow  lying  within  a  few  inches  of  the  keg 
of  powder.  Kealizing  the  danger,  he  extinguished 
the  fire  and  snatched  the  gun  from  the  hands  of 
the  precocious  youth. 

"Young  knave!  would  you  blow  up  the  ship?" 
he  cried. 

"Beware  how  ye  harm  me!"  cried  John  Bil- 
lington.  "  My  father  will  deal  hard  with  ye  for 
this." 

Francis  Billington,  when  he  heard  what  had 
been  done,  muttered  some  threats  under  his 
breath;  but  he  dared  not  do  the  young  Spaniard 
any  harm  openly,  for  the  Pilgrims  were  his  friends. 
In  an  ordinary  situation,  Billington  had  every 
thing  necessary  to  make  him  what  is  convention 
ally  called  a  worthy  citizen.  At  the  same  time, 
certain  circumstances  being  given,  certain  shocks 
stirring  up  his  nature  from  the  bottom,  he  had 
everything  requisite  to  make  him  a  villain.  He 
had  been  a  member  of  the  dragoons,  then  a  shop 
keeper,  but  there  always  slumbered  within  him  a 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  83 

monster.  Satan  at  times  crouched  in  a  corner  of 
the  lair  where  Billington  lived. 

Watching  Mathew  with  his  basilisk  eyes,  he 
murmured  under  his  dark  teeth ; 

"I  can  bide  my  time;  but  you  shall  pay  my 
vengeance  with  usury." 

On  Wednesday,  December  6th,  1620,  Captain 
Miles  Standish  and  Mathew  Stevens,  with  the  fol 
lowing  men,  set  out  in  search  of  a  place  suitable 
for  planting:  Master  Carver,  William  Bradford, 
Edward  Winslow,  John  Tilly,  Edward  Tilly,  John 
Ilowland,  Richard  Warren,  Stephen  Hopkins  and 
Edward  Dotey,  also  two  sailors,  John  Allerton  and 
Thomas  English,  with  Masters  Clarke  and  Coppin. 
On  the  7th  of  December,  they  sent  eight  of  their 
company  in  the  shallop  and  the  rest  by  land  to  dis 
cover  the  place  recommended  by  the  pilot;  but 
they  found  it  to  be  only  a  bay  without  either  river 
or  creek  flowing  into  it;  yet  they  thought  it  as 
good  as  Cape  Cod,  for  a  ship  might  ride  in  five 
fathoms  of  water.  The  land  was  level,  but  none 
of  the  most  fruitful.  Here  also  were  found 
streams  of  running  water.  Some  Indians  were 
discovered  cutting  up  a  large  fish  called  a  gram 
pus.  They  attempted  to  speak  with  them;  but 
they  ran  away  into  the  woods,  where,  by  following 
them,  they  found  an  Indian  house.  A  little  far 
ther  on,  the  Pilgrims  came  upon  an  Indian  bury- 


84  THE  PILGRIMS. 

ing-ground  in  which  were  many  graves;  but 
though  they  found  many  evidences  of  the  dead 
there  were  no  signs  of  the  living.  On  their  way, 
they  found  in  some  mounds  Indian  corn;  but  it 
was  evidently  more  than  a  year  old.  In  the 
course  of  their  wanderings,  they  came  upon  four 
or  five  Indian  houses  like  those  they  had  seen  at 
Corn  Hill.  Night  was  coming  on,  and  they  sig 
nalled  the  shallop  to  stand  in  to  shore  for  them. 
They  decided,  however,  to  pass  the  night  on  shore 
by  a  big  watch  fire,  as  it  was  very  cold.  Sentries 
were  set,  and  Mathew  Stevens,  worn  out  with  his 
long  tramp,  lay  down  by  the  side  of  Miles  Standish 
to  sleep.  It  was  midnight,  and  the  young  Span 
iard  was  lost  in  the  mazes  of  a  troubled  dream,  in 
which  Francis  Billington  seemed  threatening  the 
life  of  Alice  White.  He  heard  the  clash  of  arms 
and  the  confused  cry  of  human  voices,  mingled 
with  the  report  of  guns.  Some  one  seized  him  and 
jerked  him  to  his  feet. 

"Awake!  awake!  if  you  would  not  be  slain  in 
your  sleep!"  cried  the  voice  of  Miles  Standish  in 
his  ear.  At  the  same  time  one  of  the  sentries  fired 
a  musket,  and  shouted: 

"Awake !   arm !   arm ! ' ' 

The  Pilgrims  seized  their  arms,  and  sprang  be 
hind  trees.  The  woods  glowed  with  burning 
matches,  but  after  a  few  moments  the  noise  ceased, 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  85 

and  some  one  declared  it  was  only  a  pack  of  wolves; 
so  the  camp  once  more  sought  repose. 

Next  morning  they  were  astir  before  daylight, 
and,  fearing  their  guns  were  damp,  they  fired 
them  in  the  air.  After  prayers  they  ate  breakfast 
and  began  to  prepare  for  their  journey.  It'was 
not  yet  daylight  when  they  began  carrying  their 
rugs,  mats,  and  cooking  utensils  to  the  shallop. 

"Let  us  take  our  armor  also,"  suggested  Mr. 
Bradford. 

"I  will  not  take  mine  until  I  go  myself,"  re 
turned  Miles  Standish,  who  was  loading  his  snap- 
hance  gun,  the  only  flint-lock  in  the  company. 
Captain  Standish  was  a  cautious  soldier  and  ever 
prepared  against  surprise.  The  water  was  yet  low, 
and  those  who  carried  their  arms  and  armor  to  the 
beach  were  unable  to  reach  the  shallop,  so  they 
were  compelled  to  lay  them  on  the  sand. 

The  brightening  twilight  had  grown  to  a  sober 
gray,  when  the  air  was  suddenly  rent  with  the 
most  horrible  cry  that  ever  fell  on  human  ears. 
Mathew,  who  had  gone  a  short  distance  up  the 
hill,  came  running  back  crying: 

"They  are  men!     Indians!  Indians!" 

The  twang  of  bow-strings  and  whiz  of  arrows 
too  truly  confirmed  what  he  had  said. 

"Fly  to  your  arms!"  cried  Captain  Miles  Stan- 
dish,  cocking  his  flint-lock  gun,  and  running  up 


86  THE   PILGRIMS. 

the  hill  to  meet  the  enemy.  Half  a  dozen  dark 
forms  came  flitting  forward  like  the  shadows  of 
fiends  in  the  woods.  Kaising  his  gun,  Captain 
Standish  fired.  By  this  time  Mathew  had  his 
match  lighted,  and,  wheeling  about,  took  aim  and 
fired  at  one  of  those  advancing  forms.  But  four 
men  were  now  left  in  the  camp  to  defend  it,  and 
Captain  Standish  called: 

"Don't  fire  until  you  can  make  sure  of  your 
aim.  Those  at  the  shallop  will  defend  it,  have  no 
fears." 

Three  of  the  men  at  the  shallop  discharged  their 
guns  at  long  range,  and  another  asked  for  a  fire 
brand  with  which  to  light  their  matches.  Mathew 
took  a  log,  one  end  of  which  was  burning,  on  his 
shoulder  and  ran  amid  a  shower  of  arrows  to  his 
friends  on  the  beach.  One  lusty  Indian  from  be 
hind  a  tree  discharged  five  arrows  at  him. 
Mathew  stooped  when  he  discharged  the  first 
arrow,  and  it  went  over  his  head.  Three  muskets 
had  been  fired  at  this  fellow,  and  Mathew,  reload 
ing  his  gun,  took  deliberate  aim  at  him  and  fired. 
The  savage  with  a  yell  fled,  and  all  his  followers 
imitated  his  example.  The  Pilgrims  supposed 
from  the  noise  they  made,  that  there  must  be 
about  thirty  of  them.  Entering  the  shallop,  they 
went  to  the  harbor.  The  next  day,  the  10th  being 
the  Sabbath,  they  rested;  but  on  the  llth  of  Do- 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK.  87 

cember,  1620,  after  sounding  the  harbor,  the  Pil 
grims  rowed  ashore,  and  their  bark  touched  the 
famous  stone  known  all  over  the  world  as  "Plym 
outh  Rock."  The  harbor  was  "found  good  for 
shipping."  According  to  their  journal:  "We 
also  marched  into  the  land  and  found  divers  corn 
fields  and  little  running  brooks,  a  place  very  good 
for  situation,  so  we  returned  to  our  ship  again 
with  the  good  news  to  the  rest  of  our  people,  which 
did  much  to  comfort  their  hearts."  The  May 
flower,  after  many  difficulties  and  dangers,  was 
brought  into  the  harbor. 

We  need  say  nothing  of  Plymouth  Rock.  His 
torian,  poet  and  romancer  have  enshrined  it  in 
imperishable  lines.  It  is  familiar  to  every  school 
boy.  Our  story  deals  with  only  a  few  of  those 
sturdy  people  of  God  who  made  the  stone  famous, 
and  we  will  conclude  this  chapter  at  Plymouth 
Rock. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    DEATH     OF    ROSE    STANDISH. 

His  home  was  a  freezing  cabin, 

Too  bare  for  a  hungry  rat, 
Its  roof  thatched  with  rugged  grass, 

And  bald  enough  at  that ; 
The  hole  that  served  for  a  casement 

Was  glazed  with  an  ancient  hat ; 
And  the  ice  was  gently  thawing 

From  the  log  whereon  he  sat. 

— HOLMES. 

.ON  Friday,  December  the  15th,  the  Mayflower 
weighed  anchor  to  sail  into  the  harbor  they  had 
discovered;  but,  owing  to  a  strong  head-wind,  they 
did  not  reach  the  harbor  until  next  day.  The 
Pilgrims  were  delighted  with  the  harbor,  which 
Mr.  Bradford  declared  was  larger  than  Cape  Cod, 
"  compassed  with  a  goodly  land,  and  in  the  bay  two 
fine  islands  uninhabited,  wherein  are  nothing  but 
wood,  oaks,  pines,  walnut,  beech,  sassafras,  vines, 
and  other  trees  which  we  know  not.  This  bay  is 
a  most  hopeful  place;  innumerable  store  of  fowl, 
excellent  good,  and  cannot  but  be  of  fish  in 


THE   DEATH   OF  ROSE   STANDISH.  89 

their  season.  Skate,  cod,  turbot,  and  herring,  we 
have  tasted  of;  abundance  of  wassels,  the  greatest 
and  best  that  we  ever  saw ;  crabs  and  lobsters,  in 
their  infinite." 

The  17th  being  the  Sabbath,  the  Pilgrims  re 
mained  on  board  the  Mayfloiver,  and  Mr.  Brew- 
ster  preached  a  sermon,  and  the  day  was  passed  in 
prayer  and  thanksgiving.  On  Monday  the  18th, 
Miles  Standish,  with  John  Alden  and  a  party  of 
fifteen,  including  Captain  Jones  and  four  sailors, 
went  ashore  and  marched  some  seven  or  eight  miles 
along  the  coast,  but  saw  neither  Indians  nor  habi 
tations,  though  they  found  an  old  Indian  corn 
field.  They  found  the  soil  very  rich,  with  pines, 
walnuts,  and  oaks  growing,  and,  while  there  were 
no  great  rivers,  they  discovered  four  or  five  small 
brooks  emptying  into  the  sea.  They  found  evi 
dences  of  many  herbs,  among  them  the  strawberry 
leaves  innumerable,  sorrel,  wild  onions,  and  other 
wild  vegetables.  Next  day  they  made  further  ex 
plorations  and  found  a  creek,  which  they  ascended 
three  English  miles.  It  proved  to  be  a  very  pleas 
ant  stream  in  which  at  full  tide  a  bark  of  thirty 
tons  might  ride  in  safety.  They  were  strongly 
inclined  to  locate  at  this  place;  but  it  was  thought 
to  be  too  far  from  their  fishing,  and  surrounded  by 
a  dark  wood  which  might  afford  shelter  for  an 
enemy.  Some  of  them  suggested  that,  as  a  matter 


90  THE   PILGRIMS. 

of  safety,  they  build  their  colony  on  a  large  island, 
inaccessible  save  by  water. 

That  night  they  returned  on  shipboard,  resolved 
on  the  morrow  to  settle  on  one  of  the  three  loca 
tions.  Next  morning,  after  invoking*ihe  aid  of 
God  in  their  choice,  they  went  ashore  to  view  the 
two  places  on  main  land.  After  landing  and  view 
ing  them,  they  decided  on  the  spot  at  which  they 
had  first  landed,  where  there  was  a  bit  of  high 
ground,  an  old  Indian  cornfield,  and  a  considerable 
amount  of  land  already  cleared.  The  murmur 
ing  brooks  and  delightful  springs  furnished  them 
with  an  abundance  of  sweet  water.  On  the  22d,  a 
storm  raged  all  day,  and  they  did  not  go  ashore 
until  Saturday.  Then  Mathew,  Standish,  Brad 
ford  and  twelve  or  fifteen  more  landed  and  began 
cutting  down  great  trees  and  clearing  the  ground 
for  buildings.  On  Sunday  they  rested  from  their 
toils;  but  on  Monday  the  25th  they  again  resumed 
their  work.  Billington,  who  was  idly  roving  far 
inland,  returned  and  reported  that  he  had  heard 
the  sound  of  Indians. 

The  Pilgrims  first  began  the  construction  of 
what  they  called  a  platform,  a  sort  of  fort  for  their 
ordnance,  where  they  might  command  both  the 
shore  and  bay,  "  and  might  be  easier  impaled  hav 
ing  two  rows  of  houses  and  a  fair  street." 

That  morning  they  took  an  enumeration  of  the 


THE   DEATH   OF  ROSE   STANDISH.  91 

families,  giving  to  single  men  who  had  no  wives 
the  privilege  to  join  with  any  family  they  saw 
fit,  so  as  few  houses  as  possible  would  have  to 
be  constructed.  The  whole  colony  was  thus  re 
duced  to  nineteen  families.  Mathew  Stevens,  hav 
ing  been  specially  recommended  to  the  charge  of 
Mr.  Brewster  by  his  foster  father,  Mr.  Eobinson, 
decided  of  course  to  become  one  of  the  family  of 
the  ruling  elder.  John  Alden  accepted  a  place  in 
the  household  of  his  friend,  Captain  Miles  Standish. 
Despite  the  discouraging  rains  and  cold  weather, 
they  prepared  to  go  to  work.  During  the  last 
days  of  December  they  discovered  smoke  some  dis 
tance  away  in  the  forest  which  they  knew  to  be 
from  the  fires  of  the  Indians,  and  their  uneasiness 
was  increased. 

On  Monday,  January,  1st,  1621,  the  Pilgrims 
went  to  work  in  earnest,  and  the  ring  of  axes  and 
crash  of  falling  trees,  with  the  rasping  of  whip-saws 
and  the  ripping  up  of  the  logs  into  lumber,  for  the 
first  time  awoke  the  sleeping  echoes  of  the  old  for 
est.  On  Wednesday,  the  fourth  day  of  the  New 
Year,  as  Mathew  and  Alden  went  abroad  to  gather 
material  for  thatching  the  houses,  they  saw  the 
smoke  of  Indian  fires,  and  next  day  Captain  Stan- 
dish,  with  Mathew  Stevens,  John  Alden,  and 
Francis  Billington  went  to  search  the  country  for 
the  fires.  They  found  some  deserted  wigwams, 


92  THE   PILGRIMS. 

but  no  Indians.  On  their  return,  Mathew  Stevens 
shot  and  killed  an  American  eagle.  On  Monday, 
the  8th  of  January,  Francis  Billington  reported 
that  he  had  discovered  from  the  top  of  a  high  tree 
a  great  sea,  and,  with  a  sailor,  set  out  to  find  it; 
but  the  great  sea  proved  to  be  only  some  lakes. 

It  was  decided,  after  building  their  town  house, 
or  platform,  which  was  to  serve  the  purposes  of 
both  fort  and  church,  that,  in  order  to  expedite 
matters,  each  man  should  build  his  own  house. 
They  worked  whenever  the  weather  would  allow. 
About  a  week  after  they  had  commenced  the  con 
struction  of  their  private  dwellings,  two  of  their 
men  became  lost,  and  the  colony  was  wild  with 
alarm.  Captain  Standish  sent  Mathew  Stevens 
and  a  dozen  armed  men  in  search  of  them.  While 
they  were  gone  the  missing  men  returned.  Just 
at  their  return  the  town  house  was  fired  by  a  spark, 
and  they  came  very  near  to  losing  all  they  had 
done;  but  the  damage  was  not  great,  and  they 
bravely  set  to  work  to  repair  it.  They  built  a 
common  shed  to  put  their  provisions  under,  as 
some  of  it  already  had  been  sent  ashore. 

On  the  19th  of  December,  John  Goodman,  who 
was  lame  from  a  frosted  foot,  was  roaming  about 
the  hill  above  the  settlement  accompanied  only  by 
a  dog,  when  he  was  beset  by  a  pair  of  wolves. 
The  dog  took  shelter  between  his  legs,  and  he 


THE   DEATH   OF  ROSE   STAND1SH.  93 

fought  the  wolves  off  with  a  stick,  yelling  and 
shouting  to  keep  them  at  bay.  Stevens  was 
working  near  and,  hearing  the  cries,  snatched  his 
gun  and  ran  to  Goodman's  assistance.  The  wolves 
saw  him  coming  and,  realizing  that  there  was 
danger,  fled. 

When  the  shed  was  completed  and  their  provis 
ions  were  placed  under  it,  they  resumed  work  on 
their  dwelling  houses.  Such  as  were  sick  and  un 
able  to  build  their  own  houses  had  to  wait  until 
their  friends  made  them.  Exposure  had  already 
begun  to  tell  on  the  rugged  natures  of  the  Pilgrims. 
Many  were  sick,  and  before  they  had  been  three 
months  in  New  England,  twenty  signers  to  the 
Mayfloicer  compact  had  died. 

On  the  morning  of  the  31st  of  January,  Captain 
Jones  and  some  of  the  sailors  on  the  deck  of  the 
May  flower )  saw  two  savages  on  an  island  near  the 
ship.  They  tried  to  speak  with  them ;  but  the  In 
dians  disappeared. 

On  shore  the  Pilgrims  continued  their  work, 
frequently  interrupted  by  storms  of  rain,  hail,  and 
snow.  On  February  16th,  Mathew  Stevens  went 
out  into  the  forest  for  some  game  and  had  just 
taken  up  a  station  among  some  reeds  and  bushes 
near  the  creek,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the 
plantation,  when  there  passed  by  him  twelve  In 
dians,  going  toward  their  settlement.  The  match 


94  THE   PILGRIMS. 

in  his  gun  was  lighted  and  the  pan  thrown  open,  yet 
he  dared  not  fire,  for  discovery  was  death.  He 
could  only  kill  one  or  two  at  most,  and  the  others 
would  fall  upon  and  slay  him.  He  heard  the 
voices  of  many  others  in  the  woods,  so  he  knew 
that  the  twelve  were  not  all.  Filled  with  a  thou 
sand  dreads,  he  lay  close  until  they  passed,  then 
ran  home  to  warn  his  friends.  Those  who  were  at 
work  in  the  fields  and  woods  came  home  to  arm 
themselves.  While  Miles  Standish  and  Francis 
Cook  came  for  their  guns,  the  Indians  stole  their 
tools. 

Affairs  had  come  to  such  a  pass,  that  a  military 
organization  was  necessary,  and  on  Saturday,  Feb 
ruary  17th,  a  meeting  was  called  for  that  purpose. 
Francis  Billington,  who  was  ambitious,  was  a  can 
didate  for  commander  of  the  slender  forces  of  the 
Pilgrims,  citing  his  services  as  a  member  of  the 
king's  horse  as  a  qualification  for  the  position;  but 
his  claims  and  his  fitness  were  not  sufficient  for 
his  success.  Miles  Standish,  the  hero  of  the 
Flemish  wars,  was  chosen  Captain,  with  full  au 
thority  to  command  in  all  affairs  requiring  military 
action.  Angry  at  being  defeated,  Billington  de 
clared  his  determination  to  return  to  England. 

"Go!  'twill  be  a  blessing  to  the  colony,"  an 
swered  the  bluff  Stephen  Hopkins. 

"I  will  get  justice  done  me  there." 


THE   DEATH   OF   ROSE   STANDISH.  95 

"Marry!  I  doubt  if  you  ever  did." 

Billington  winced  under  this  keen  retort  and  was 
about  to  make  some  answer,  when  Mathew  Stevens 
chanced  to  look  upon  the  hill  and  espied  two 
Indians. 

"Look!  There  are  natives,"  he  cried,  pointing 
to  the  two  people  on  the  hill. 

All  eyes  were  turned  toward  them. 

"By  the  mass!  they  signal  us  to  come,"  cried 
Billington. 

Then  Captain  Standish  signalled  them  to  come 
down ;  but  they  would  not. 

"Arm  yourselves,"  commanded  the  captain. 
"We  will  stand  on  our  defence." 

The  men  seized  their  guns  and  proceeded  to  load 
them.  Having  their  matches  lighted,  Captain 
Standish  and  Stephen  Hopkins  went  across  the 
brook  toward  the  Indians.  Hopkins  was  unarmed; 
but  the  captain  had  his  formidable  snaphance  in 
his  hand,  which  the  Indians  noticed. 

"You  had  better  lay  down  your  gun,  or  they 
will  not  suffer  us  to  draw  near,"  suggested  Hopkins. 

Standish  laid  down  his  gun  in  sight  of  the  In 
dians  and  once  more  advanced  toward  them;  but 
they  would  not  even  then  suffer  the  white  men  to 
come  near  them,  and  as  they  advanced,  the  Indians 
ran  away  into  the  forest  near,  making  the  old  wood 
resound  with  their  savage  war-whoops. 


96  THE   PILGRIMS. 

On  his  return,  Standisli  recommended  that  they 
plant  their  cannon  so  as  to  defend  their  settlement. 
Next  day  Captain  Jones  and  his  sailors  brought 
ashore  a  heavy  piece  called  a  minion  and  helped 
them  drag  the  gun  with  another  up  the  hill  and 
mount  the  pieces.  Work  was  resumed  on  the 
houses  and  fort,  which  were  nearing  completion. 

Their  military  organization  having  been  inter 
rupted  by  the  appearance  of  the  savages,  they  de 
termined,  on  the  16th  of  March,  to  meet  again  and 
make  it  complete.  The  colony  was  assembled; 
but  work  had  scarcely  begun,  when  Mathew,  who 
was  on  guard,  suddenly  cried: 

" There  comes  an  Indian!" 

"Where?" 

"From  over  the  hill." 

All  could  see  him  now.  He  boldly  advanced 
toward  them,  and  seemed  going  toward  their 
houses,  but  Stevens  suddenly  arrested  his  advance. 

"Stop!  go  no  further!"  he  said. 

He  paused,  faced  the  white  men  and,  with  a  mil 
itary  salute,  to  their  astonishment,  said  in  English: 

"  Welcome!" 

"He  speaks  English!"  cried  Captain  Standish. 

"Where  are  you  from?"  asked  Mathew. 

"I  have  been  to  Monchiggon,"  was  the  answer, 
"and  I  know  many  English  masters  who  come 
there  to  fish." 


THE   DEATH  OF   ROSE   STANDISH.  97 

They  began  to  question  him,  and  he  continued: 

"I  am  not  of  these  parts,  but  of  Morattiggon, 
where  I  am  one  of  the  Sagamores.  I  have  been  in 
this  land  eight  moons.  It  is  five  days  journey  by 
land  to  my  country." 

"What  country  is  this?"  asked  Mr.  Bradford 
coming  forward  to  take  part  in  the  conversation. 

"  This  is  Patuxet,  and  about  four  years  ago  a 
plague  came  among  the  people,  so  they  nearly  all 
died  and  there  are  but  few  left." 

He  told  them  of  the  visits  of  Fernando  Gorges' 
men,  and  Captain  Hunt,  who  had  abducted  the 
Indians,  which  had  infuriated  the  people. 

They  kept  the  savage  two  days  and  then  dis 
missed  him.  He  promised  to  come  again  within  a 
day  or  two  and  bring  with  him  some  of  their 
neighbors  whom  he  called  the  "  Massasoyts. " 

On  Sunday  he  returned  with  five  more  Indians 
clad  in  buckskin.  They  left  their  bows  and  ar 
rows  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  camp  and  evinced 
the  greatest  friendship.  Their  first  acquaintance, 
Sarnoset,  remained  behind  when  the  others  were 
gone.  He  told  the  English  that  there  was  but  one 
of  the  tribe  of  Patuxet*  left,  his  name  was 
Squanto,  and  he  had  been  captured  by  Captain 

*  The  chroniclers  of  the  Pilgrims  spell  this  word  Pa 
tuxet  and  Patuxat.  It  is  spelled  by  some  authors  Patuxent. 
Either  way  probably  is  correct. 

7 


98  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Hunt,  taken  to  Europe,  sold  in  Spain,  brought  to 
England,  and  finally  made  liis  way  to  his  own 
country,  to  find  that  the  plague  had  swept  away 
all  his  tribe.  Samoset  was  sent  to  find  Squanto 
and  bring  him  in,  as  the  Pilgrims  were  anxious  to 
meet  the  only  person  who  had  any  title  to  the 
lands  they  occupied.  While  in  England,  Squanto 
had  lived  at  Cornhill  with  Mr.  John  Slanie,  a  mer 
chant,  and  could  speak  a  little  English.  Three 
other  Indians  came  with  them,  bringing  a  few  furs 
to  trade  with  the  whites. 

Samoset  informed  them  that  the  great  Sagamore 
Massasoyt  (Massassoit)  was  near  with  Quadequina, 
his  brother,  and  all  their  men.  The  Pilgrims 
were  anxious  to  conclude  treaties  of  peace  with  their 
dusky  neighbors  with  whom  they  hoped  in  future 
to  live  at  peace.  An  interview  with  the  great 
Sagamore  was  brought  about  after  considerable 
trouble.  Some  presents  were  exchanged  and 
friendly  relations  established. 

Mr.  Edward  Winslow  and  Mathew  Stevens  were 
sent  as  ambassadors  to  the  king.  The  former 
made  a  speech,  saying  that  King  James  saluted 
him  with  words  of  love  and  peace  and  accepted 
him  as  his  friend  and  ally,  and  that  they  desired 
to  see  him  and  "truck"  (trade)  with  him  and  to 
confirm  peace  as  his  next  neighbor.  Mathew  ob 
served  that  Massasoyt  liked  the  speech,  which  was 


THE  DEATH  OF  ROSE  STANDISH.  99 

interpreted  by  Squanto,  their  friend  and  represent 
ative.  A  treaty  was  finally  concluded,  of  which 
the  following  is  the  substance. 

I.  That  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  should    in 
jure  or  do  any  hurt  to  any  of  the  English. 

II.  That  if  any  of  his  people  did  any  hurt  to 
any    of    the    English,   he    should    send    them    the 
offender,  that  they  might  punish  him. 

III.  That  if  any  of  their  tools  were  taken  while 
any  of  their  people  were  at  work,  he  should  cause 
them  to  be  restored,  and  if  any  Englishman   did 
any  of  Massasoyt's  people  a  harm,  they  would  do 
likewise  with  him. 

IV.  If  any  did  unjustly  war  against  him,  they 
would  aid  him.      If  any  did  war  against  the  Eng 
lish,  he  should  aid  them. 

V.  He  should  send  to  his  neighbor  confederates, 
to  certify  them  of  this,  that  they  might  not  wrong 
the  English,  but  might  be  likewise  comprised  in 
the  same  conditions  of  peace. 

VI.  That  when  their  men  came  to  them,  they 
should  leave  their  bows  and  arrows  behind  them, 
as  they  would  do  with  their  pieces  when  they  went 
among  them. 

VII.  That  doing  thus,  King  James  would  es 
teem  him  his  friend  and  ally. 

The  great  Sagamore  and  his  people  seemed  de 
lighted  with  the  terms  of  the  treaty.     The  whites 


100  THE   PILGRIMS. 

were  of  course  pleased  with  it,  for  it  gave  them  a 
promise  of  peace. 

Squanto  and  Samoset  both  became  firm  friends 
of  the  Pilgrims.  The  doors  at  Plymouth  were 
always  open  to  them,  and  the  dusky  brothers  were 
ever  welcome  at  the  white  man's  board. 

Shortly  after  the  treaty  with  Massasoyt,  the  Pil 
grims  chose  Mr.  John  Carver  for  their  governor. 
He  was  the  first  governor  of  Plymouth,  but  dying 
shortly  after  his  election,  William  Bradford  was 
selected  in  his  place.  The  Pilgrims  could  not  have 
chosen  a  more  wise  and  upright  man. 

As  has  been  previously  stated,  hardships  and  ex 
posure  began  to  tell  at  an  early  date  on  the  unfor 
tunate  Pilgrims.  Almost  before  the  colony  was 
formed,  death,  which  invades  alike  palace  and 
hovel,  was  among  them,  cutting  down  the  young 
and  old. 

Consumption,  scurvy,  and  sickness  in  almost 
every  form  seized  them,  and  at  times  the  able- 
bodied  were  scarcely  enough  to  take  care  of  the  sick 
or  bury  the  dead. 

"I  believe  we  will  all  die,"  declared  Mrs.  Brew- 
ster.  "Then  there  will  be  no  one  left  to  bury  the 
last  one." 

Mr.  Brewster,  who  was  sustained  by  an  undying 
faith,  answered: 

"  Whatever  God  wills,  I  obey.     If  it  be  His  holy 


THE   DEATH   OF  ROSE  STANDISH.  101 

wish  that  I  should   find   ray  final  resting  place  in 
this  wilderness,  I  will  not  complain." 

"But   to    die  in  the  wilderness,"  sobbed  Mrs. 
Brewster. 

"It  is  God's  wilderness,"  interrupted  Mr.  Brew 
ster. 

"So  far  from  home  and  friends." 
"God  is  with  us.  Jesus  Christ  is  our  friend." 
"I  cannot  abide  here.  Let  us  return." 
"O,  my  wife,  your  little  faith  shames  me," 
replied  the  stern  elder  of  the  Plymouth  church. 
"  Do  you  doubt  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God  ? 
Eeturn?  Whither  should  we  return?  To  Ley- 
den,  and  see  future  generations  grow  up  weaned 
from  the  religion  which  we  hold  dearer  than  life — 
see  them  filled  with  the  errors  of  sin,  the  loose 
morals — desecrating  the  Sabbath,  engaging  in  im 
moral  pleasures  which  destroy  the  soul?  No, 
never!  Better  death  in  the  wilderness.  Should 
we  go  to  England,  would  we  be  permitted  to  wor 
ship  God  according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience? 
No;  the  true  worship  of  the  living  God  would 
be  exchanged  for  empty  mummery  from  the  lips 
rather  than  the  heart.  Never  that.  Better  death 
in  the  wilderness.  God  is  here.  God  is  every 
where.  Though  we  are  assailed  with  famine,  sick 
ness,  and  death,  we  have  the  blessed  privilege  of 
worshipping  God.  As  Moses  led  the  children  of 


102  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Israel  out  of  Egypt  into  the  wilderness,  so  come 
we.  They  suffered  from  sickness  and  famine,  and 
so  do  we;  yet  God  did  sustain  them,  and  will 
He  not  sustain  us  as  well?  Let  us  trust  in  God, 
and  ever  remember  that  though  dark  the  night, 
the  morn  will  come.  Though  bitter  the  bud,  the 
flower  will  be  sweet." 

Mrs.  Brewster,  quite  humiliated  by  the  gentle 
chiding  of  her  pious  husband,  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands  and  sobbed: 

"Forgive  me,  O  God,  for  I  am  weak!  Give  me 
strength  according  to  my  day  and  hour  of  trial!" 

One  of  the  first  homes  assailed  by  the  grim  mon 
ster,  was  the  house  of  Miles  Standish.  The  sol 
dier's  beautiful  wife,  Rose  Standish,  was  the  delicate 
flower  which  the  blasts  of  New  England  winter 
were  first  to  nip.  A  cough  seized  on  her  lungs, 
and  she  soon  succumbed  to  it. 

The  gallant  captain  who  had  never  faltered  in 
battle  turned  pale  and  trembled  with  anxiety  as  he 
saw  his  wife  day  by  day  growing  weaker.  At 
last  she  was  unable  to  leave  her  coarse  bed  of  skins 
and  rushes.  Tenderly  the  warrior  •  cared  for  her, 
breathing  words  of  hope;  but  she  shook  her  head 
sadly  and,  while  the  hectic  flush  illuminated  her 
cheek,  answered: 

"No,  no,  Miles;  I  can  never  get  well.  God 
has  summoned  me  home.  Be  as  loyal  to  Him  as 


THE  DEATH  OF  ROSE  STAXDISH.          103 

you  have  been  to  me.  I  leave  our  child  to  you 
and  you  must  be  father  and  mother  both  to  her." 
She  ceased  speaking,  for  she  had  grown  very  weak. 
It  had  been  many  years  since  the  eyes  of  the  sol 
dier  had  been  moist  with  grief;  but  now  they  grew 
dim,  and  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  Mr. 
Brewster  and  his  good  wife  came  to  the  humble 
hut  in  which  dwelt  the  captain  and  his  dying  wife. 
Famine  and  fever  had  wasted  away  her  frame. 
Kose  was  but  a  shadow  of  her  former  self.  She 
slept  on  the  hard  bed,  the  best  her  poor  husband 
could  afford.  Mrs.  Brewster  carried  something 
under  her  arm.  She  saw  the  dying  wife  and  the 
weeping  husband  bending  over  her  and  then  laid 
the  bundle  in  his  arms.  It  was  a  pillow. 

The  captain  received  the  gift  in  silence,  and, 
gently  raising  his  poor  wife's  head,  placed  the  soft, 
downy  pillow  under  it.  What  luxury!  How 
sweet  and  soft  compared  with  the  hard,  coarse 
bunting  and  bed  of  rushes,  to  which  she  had  been 
accustomed!  This  gentle  action  of  love  awoke 
her,  and  Rose,  looking  up  in  her  husband's  face, 
smiled.  It  was  the  smile  of  an  angel. 

"What  have  you  done,  dear  husband?  Such 
luxury  as  this  is  surely  the  gift  of  God.  To  those 
who  love  Christ,  death,  even  in  a  wilderness,  has 
no  terrors." 

Again  she  fell  asleep.     The  elder  and  his  wife 


104  THE   PILGRIMS. 

came  and  knelt  by  the  rude  bed  with  the  husband. 
All  silently  prayed  over  the  dying  woman. 

They  watched  her  through  the  long  night,  as  her 
fever  rose  and  fell.  Death's  dread  rattle  was  in 
her  throat,  and  slowly  her  sweet  young  life  ebbed 
away.  All  the  night  long  the  stern  soldier  who 
had  so  often  mocked  death  was  on  his  knees.  All 
his  hopes,  his  love  and  ambition  were  centred  in 
the  dying  wife.  Dark  and  gloomy  was  that  night 
of  death. 

As  day  dawned,  she  opened  wide  her  beautiful 
blue  eyes  and,  gazing  on  the  face  of  her  faithful 
husband,  murmured: 

"I  am  still  here.  I  thought  I  should  be  gone 
ere  this."  After  another  fitful,  feverish  sleep,  she 
again  opened  her  eyes  and  faintly  murmured: 

"God  bless  you — faithful — loving — husband; 
good-by!"  In  a  moment  she  was  among  the 
angels. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

ALICE. 

I  meet  her  in  my  raptured  dreams ; 
We  rove  the  sylvan  vales  and  streams, 
And  talk  of  love  and  kindred  themes, 

And  promise  not  to  sever. 
Can  she,  though  absent,  cheer  me  so? 
Has  perfect  bliss  been  found  below? 
Can  dreams  of  her,  such  joy  bestow? 

Then  let  me  dream  forever. 

— PAXTON. 

THE  little  town  of  Plymouth  began  to  assume 
the  appearance  of  a  frontier  settlement.  By  June 
1st,  1621,  some  of  the  houses  were  completed;  or 
at  least  comfortable.  When  warm  weather  came, 
the  mortality  was  less.  Many  of  the  sick  recov 
ered,  and  hope  sprang  up  in  the  breasts  of  all. 

Their  buildings  were  inferior  and  rude,  and  but 
seven,  in  addition  to  their  public  storehouse, 
church,  and  fort,  were  constructed  the  first  year. 
The  roofs  were  thatched,  the  walls  of  hewn  logs 
cut  and  notched  down.  For  light  at  the  windows, 
paper,  saturated  in  linseed  oil  was  pasted  over  the 
sash ;  for  they  were  without  such  luxuries  as  glass. 

105 


106  THE   PILGRIMS. 

On  occasions  of  state,  such  as  the  reception  of 
Massassoit,  the  Indian  king,  their  council  chamber 
was  covered  with  a  great  green  rug  and  some  cush 
ions,  with  other  adornments,  the  handiwork  of  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  the  Pilgrims.* 

Among  the  few  who  escaped  the  ravages  of 
famine  and  fever  was  Mathew  Stevens.  He  com 
forted  the  bereaved,  cheered  the  sick,  and  his 
helping  hand  was  everywhere  turned  to  aid  those 
in  distress.  While  Captain  Standish  was  in 
mourning  for  his  wife,  Mathew  had  command  of 
the  soldiers,  ready  to  defend  the  sick  Pilgrims.  It 
was  well  that  they  had  no  hostile  foe  to  combat, 
for  they  could  have  made  but  little  resistance. 

The  grain  planted  grew  well  and  gave  promise 
of  an  abundant  yield.  The  waters  supplied  them 
with  fish  and  the  forest  with  game,  the  trees  had 
assumed  their  summer  garb,  and  happiness  was 
once  more  restored  to  the  enfeebled  colony. 

As  every  flock  has  a  black  sheep,  so  had  the 
Pilgrims.  Francis  Billington  seemed  to  have  come 
on  purpose  to  keep  those  devout  men  of  God  in 
constant  trouble  and  turmoil.  One  always  hates 
those  whom  he  has  wronged,  and  Billington  enter 
tained  a  supreme  hatred  for  Mathew  Stevens.  He 

*  There  still  may  be  seen  in  Pilgrims'  Hall  some  fine 
specimens  of  needlework,  made  by  the  daughter  of  Miles 
Standish. 


ALICE.  107 

never  permitted  an  opportunity  to  escape  for  doing 
Mathew  an  injury.  The  most  frivolous  matter  was 
sufficient  cause  for  Billington  to  institute  a  quarrel. 
One  day  they  quarrelled  about  some  tools.  Al 
though  the  mattock,  spade,  and  axe  were  unques 
tionably  Mathew's,  he  vowed  that  they  were  his, 
and  he  would  defend  his  property. 

"They  are  not  yours,"  Mathew  declared. 

"They  are,"  and  Billington,  being  a  great 
swearer,  became  intensely  profane.  Mathew 
offered  to  arbitrate  the  matter,  but  Billington 
would  listen  to  nothing  reasonable. 

"I  will  have  them,"  he  declared. 

It  was  not  until  Miles  Standish  and  John  Alden 
threatened  to  tie  him  "head  and  heels,"  that  he 
would  consent  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  justice.  He 
gave  up  the  tools,  saying: 

"Ye  have  discomfited  me  twice;  but  I  will  yet 
have  my  revenge!"  To  which  Mathew  replied 
hotly: 

"As  you  will.  If  you  must  have  a  set-to  with 
swords,  I  shall  not  be  found  wanting  in  courage  to 
meet  you." 

Billington  was  not  one  to  court  open  combat. 
He  preferred  to  gain  his  revenge  by  assassination, 
and  had  not  an  event  happened  soon  after  this 
quarrel,  which  attracted  the  attention  of  the  whole 
colony,  he  might  have  shot  or  stabbed  the  young 


108  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Spaniard  in  the  dark.  The  next  morning  after 
the  quarrel,  the  village  was  roused  by  the  ringing 
of  a  bell,  and  hearing  the  awful  cry: 

"Lost!  lost!  a  child  is  lost!" 

Mathew  and  Brewster  hastened  from  the  house 
and  asked  of  the  first  passer-by: 

"Whose  child  is  lost?" 

"It  is  the  son  of  Francis  Billington,"  was  the 
answer.  To  which  Mr.  Brewster  said  to  him 
self: 

"  The  young  knave  who  so  nearly  blew  up  the 
Mayflower,  and  who  has  been  a  constant  source 
of  annoyance  ever  since." 

Billington  was  in  great  distress,  and  in  order  to 
create  a  prejudice  against  his  enemy,  and  turn  his 
woe  to  some  account,  he  went  about  the  streets 
crying: 

"He  hath  robbed  me  of  my  child!  He  hath 
robbed  me  of  my  child!" 

"  Who  hath  robbed  you  of  your  child?"  Captain 
Miles  Standish  asked. 

"Mathew  Stevens." 

"Nonsense;  he  knows  nothing  of  him." 

Mathew  was  thunderstruck  at  the  accusation; 
but  Billington  kept  wringing  his  hands  and  repeat 
ing  that  Mathew  had  stolen  his  son,  until  the  gov 
ernor  and  Captain  Standish  told  him  to  cease. 

"  Your  boy  has  strayed  away  and  been  lost  in 


ALICE.  103 

the  forest.  Pray  what  motive  would  Mathew  have 
for  abducting  your  child?" 

"Kevenge." 

To  which  Captain  Standish  answered: 

"Hush!  foul  slanderer;  he  would  not  stoop  to 
so  vile  a  thing.  We  will  make  inquiry  among 
the  Indians  and  learn  where  the  boy  hath  gone." 

Governor  Bradford  sent  Mathew  Stevens  and 
John  Alden  to  Massassoit  to  make  inquiry  for  the 
lost  boy.  They  brought  back  the  information 
that  he  was  at  Nauset.  He  had  become  lost  and 
bewildered  in  the  forest  and  so  wandered  for  five 
days  living  on  berries,  and  reached  an  Indian 
plantation  twenty  miles  south  of  Plymouth  called 
Manomet.  The  natives  at  this  place  conducted 
him  to  Nauset,  the  country  where  the  Pilgrims 
had  had  their  first  encounter  with  the  savages. 
These  Indians  still  retained  a  hatred  of  the  Eng 
lish,  because  Captain  Hunt  had  abducted  some  of 
their  people,  and  carried  them  to  Europe.  Gov 
ernor  Bradford  despatched  ten  men  in  a  shallop 
with  two  guides  and  interpreters  with  the  eupho 
nious  names  of  Tisquantum  and  Tokamahamon, 
to  go  and  bring  back  the  lost  boy. 

Captain  Standish  was  in  command  of  the  ex 
pedition,  and  he  made  Mathew  his  lieutenant. 
Every  political  or  social  elevation  of  Mathew 
Stevens  seemed  only  to  increase  the  hatred  of 


110  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Billington.  On  the  eleventh  of  June,  the  weather 
being  fair,  the  expedition  set  forth.  They  had 
net  been  long  at  sea,  when  a  thunder-storm  arose, 
with  wind  and  rain,  and  they  were  compelled  to  put 
into  a  harbor  for  the  night,  called  Cummaquid, 
where  they  hoped  to  gain  some  tidings  of  the  boy. 
Next  day  they  learned  from  some  savages  who  were 
seeking  lobsters  that  the  boy  was  well,  and  still  at 
Nauset.  They  were  persuaded  to  land,  and  the 
Indians  brought  their  sachem  to  them,  with  great 
crowds  of  people.  Among  them  was  an  old  wo 
man,  who,  on  seeing  the  English,  began  to  scream, 
weep  and  tear  her  hair  in  a  most  extraordinary 
manner. 

"What  troubles  her?"  Captain  Miles  Standish 
asked  through  an  interpreter. 

The  Indian  sachem  answered: 

"She  had  three  sons,  taken  by  the  Englishman 
Hunt  and  sold  into  slavery  in  Spain.  Being  de 
prived  of  their  comfort  in  her  old  age,  she  mourns 
for  them."  Captain  Standish,  moved  by  her  grief, 
said: 

"  Tell  her  that  we  are  very  sorry  that  any  English 
man  should  be  so  cruel.  Mr.  Hunt  was  a  very 
bad  man  and  we  all  condemn  him  for  what  he  did. 
As  for  us,  we  would  not  suffer  any  injury  to  be 
done  to  you,  for  all  the  furs  in  the  country." 

He   then  gave  the  mother  some  small    trifles, 


ALICE.  Ill 

which  partially  appeased  her  grief  by  exciting  her 
curiosity.  After  dinner  they  once  more  pushed 
out  for  Nauset  accompanied  by  the  sachem  and 
two  of  his  chief  men.  They  landed  and  sent  mes 
sengers  to  the  Indians  offering  to  make  restitution 
for  the  corn  they  had  taken,  and  also  to  pay  them 
for  restoring  the  boy.  After  sunset  they  brought 
John  Billington  to  them. 

The  young  scape-grace,  little  affected  by  his  long 
journey  in  the  forest  and  captivity  among  the  In- 
diuns,  evinced  no  emotion  on  meeting  his  father. 
By  a  liberal  donation  of  presents,  the  Pilgrims 
more  strongly  cemented  their  friendship  with  the 
tribes  and  returned  to  Plymouth. 

Among  the  Pilgrims  early  to  succumb  to  the 
dread  disease  of  consumption  and  famine,  was  one 
William  White.  Mathew  had  never  been  inti 
mate  with  him,  as  he  had  not  known  him  until 
they  sailed  on  the  Mayflower.  There  were  a  great 
many  Whites  in  England,  and  it  had  never  oc 
curred  to  Stevens  that  this  man  might  be  a  relative 
of  Alice  White. 

The  widow  of  the  Pilgrim  required  the  assist 
ance  of  her  friends,  and  the  single  men  of  the 
colony  planted  her  corn,  completed  her  house  and 
did  such  other  work  as  was  needful  for  the  com 
fort  of  herself  and  children.  Mathew,  being  the 
best  carpenter  in  the  colony,  was  most  frequently 


112  THE   PILGRIMS. 

at  the  home  of  the  widow.  One  day,  while  at 
work  in  the  house  making  some  shelves,  he  asked: 

"Did  you  come  from  London?" 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  always  lived  in  London?" 

"No;  we  once  lived  in  Lincolnshire." 

"Lincolnshire,"  said  Mathew  thoughtfully.  "I 
was  once  in  Lincolnshire.  You  did  not  go  to 
Leyden?" 

"No." 

"Had  Mr.  White  any  relatives  in  Lincoln 
shire?" 

"Yes;  a  sister  and  a  niece." 

Mathew,  who  was  in  the  act  of  nailing  a  board, 
dropped  his  hammer  and  fixed  his  dark  eyes  on 
the  widow  and  asked: 

"What  was  the  name  of  the  sister  and  niece?" 

"Sarah  White  and  her  daughter  Alice." 

"Did  they  remove  to  London?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  they  still  there?" 

"They  are." 

"It's  the  same!  It's  the  same!"  cried  Mathew, 
clapping  his  hands  in  an  ecstacy  of  joy. 

"Pray,  what  mean  you?"  asked  the  widow. 

He  hurriedly  explained  how  he  had  been  res 
cued  from  prison  by  Alice  when  she  was  a  little 
girl,  and  how  romantically  they  had  met  in  Lon- 


ALICE.  113 

don  ten  years  later.  He  concluded  his  narration 
with  a  description  of  her,  and  the  widow  said: 

"It  is  the  same  sweet,  gentle  Alice." 

"  They  said  they  were  going  to  emigrate  to  New 
England." 

"Such  is  their  intent.  They  are  to  come  in  the 
Mayflower  on  her  second  voyage." 

Alice  coming!  It  was  the  most  glorious  news 
he  had  heard.  How  he- watched  the  old  ocean, 
climbing  the  tallest  summit  morn  after  morn,  as 
the  rising  sun  crimsoned  hills,  valleys  and  sea,  and 
gazed  oceanward  in  hopes  of  catching  a  glimpse  of 
the  Mayflower  returning  from  England.  Patience 
and  perseverance  usually  meet  their  reward. 

Summer  glided  by  like  a  dream,  partly  terrible, 
partly  pleasant.  Autumn  came  with  the  fullness 
and  richness  of  a  golden  harvest.  The  fields 
yielded  an  abundance  of  their  fruits  and  the  air 
was  burdened  with  the  perfume  of  ripened  plums 
and  wild-flowers.  The  colony  was  at  peace  with 
the  natives,  and  preparations  were  being  made 
against  the  rigors  of  the  coming  winter.  The  hills 
and  forests  about  them  breathed  whispers  of  peace 
and  plenty;  the  blue  skies  above  were  mild  and 
serene. 

It  was  evening,  and  the  young  Pilgrim  had  again 
gained  the  eminence  and  gazed  off  to  sea,  when  the 
moon  rose  from  the  water, flooding  all  the  hemisphere 


114  THE  PILGRIMS. 

with  light.  Mathew  looked — caught  his  breath  for 
a  moment,  then  shouted  with  delight  and  daneed 
for  joy.  Never  did  shipwrecked  mariner  behold 
with  more  delight  the  appearance  of  a  vessel  that 
was  to  bear  him  from  a  desolate  island,  than  did 
Mathew  Stevens  discover  that  sail  by  moonlight. 

"It  has  come!     The  ship  has  come!" 

He  ran  down  the  hill  and  dashed  into  the  vil 
lage,  repeating  his  joyous  cry: 

"It  has  come!     It  has  come!" 

When  asked  what  had  come,  he  merely  pointed 
seaward,  and  again  shouted,  "It  has  come!" 

They  understood  his  meaning,  and  a  boat  was 
made  ready  to  go  to  the  vessel.  As  nearly  every 
body  expected  friends,  nearly  everybody  wanted 
to  go  to  the  ship.  The  tide  being  out,  and  there 
being  not  a  breath  of  wind,  all  knew  that  the  ship 
could  not  enter  the  harbor  before  morning.  Those 
who  did  not  expect  friends,  had  letters  aboard  the 
ship  from  loved  ones  at  home,  and  the  boat  was 
loaded  down. 

Mathew  had  to  make  a  stubborn  fight  for  a 
place,  but  succeeded,  and  they  started  toward  the 
ship.  It  was  midnight  before  the  vessel  was 
reached,  and  they  found  the  emigrants  buried  in 
slumber.  The  Pilgrims  gathered  in  a  group  on 
deck  to  await  the  dawn.  When  morning  came, 
there  were  many  glad  hearts;  but  no  one  was  more 


ALICE.  115 

happy  than  Mathew.  Alice  White  and  her  mother 
were  aboard,  and  as  soon  as  they  awoke  he  found 
them  and  told  them  that  work  had  already  been 
begun  on  their  house  and  the  ground  laid  out  for 
their  home.  To  the  new  comers,  the  colonists  repre 
sented  the  country  as  a  land  of  wonders.  Captain 
Jones  asked  Miles  Standish  how  far  the  forest  and 
hills  extended  to  the  west.  He  answered: 

"I  do  not  know.  I  have  been  fifteen  miles  into 
those  woods  and  hills,  and  as  far  as  I  could  see 
from  where  I  was,  there  was  a  vast  forest,  the  ex 
tent  whereof  I  know  not." 

Miles  Standish  knew  no  more  of  that  great  wil 
derness  stretching  across  the  continent  for  three 
thousand  miles,  than  is  known  of  the  treasures  at 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  By  means  of  a  fair  wind 
and  tide,  the  emigrant  ship  was  brought  into  the 
harbor  and  the  emigrants  debarked.  The  shore 
was  lined  with  boxes  and  piles  of  goods,  and  the 
settlement  presented  a  lively,  bustling  scene.  The 
Indians  from  the  distant  hills  watched  with  un 
easy  eyes  and  anxious  hearts.  This  was  but  the 
beginning.  That  band  of  white  men  would  in 
crease  and  press  the  red  brother  back,  until  he  was 
swept  from  the  globe. 

Sarah  White  and  her  daughter  went  to  live  with 
Mrs.  White  until  their  own  home  could  be  pre 
pared  for  them.  With  Mathew  Stevens,  the  con- 


116  THE   PILGRIMS. 

struction  of  the  house  was  a  labor  of  love.  Being 
the  best  carpenter  in  the  colony,  and  having  plenty 
of  assistance,  he  soon  prepared  the  building  for 
Alice  and  her  mother,  and  they  took  up  their 
abode  at  once  in  their  new  home. 

Mathew  Stevens  asked  Alice  to  name  the  day 
she  would  become  his  wife;  but  she  deferred  the 
matter  from  time  to  time.  They  had  had  many 
deaths,  two  births,  but  no  marriage  in  the  colony. 
Mathew  was  past  thirty,  a  sturdy  young  fellow 
with  a  frame  of  iron.  Alice  was  twenty-three, 
and  there  seemed  no  obstacle  to  their  union. 
True,  they  were  poor;  but  poverty  is  no  stumbling 
block  in  the  pathway  of  love. 

One  day,  while  roaming  in  the  wooded  hills 
amid  the  rustling  of  golden  leaves,  they  paused 
beside  a  murmuring  brook,  and,  gazing  at  the 
limpid  stream,  he  said: 

"Our  lives  are  like  those  rivulets,  gradually 
running  out  toward  the  great  ocean  of  eternity. 
There  is  naught  to  keep  these  two  little  streams 
from  uniting  their  waters  and  speeding  on  joyously 
in  a  happy  union,  save  the  pebble  which  divides 
them.  Only  a  pebble  prevents  our  union.  Do 
you  love  me?" 

He  paused  for  her  answer,  and  Alice,  with  her 
head  bowed,  watched  the  tiny  streamlet. 

"I  have  answered  your  question  often;  yes." 


ALICE. 


117 


"Then  why  not  consent  to  fix  the  day?" 

She  heaved  a  sigh  and,  with  an  expression  of 
mysterious  sadness  on  her  face,  said: 

"Not  now;  not  now.     Bide  your  time.     I  will 
talk  with  my  mother." 

As  they  rambled  down  the  hillside  toward  the 
Puritan  village    Mathew   heard 
the  tread  of  feet  coming  behind 
them,  and  turning  paw  the  for 
bidding  countenance  of  Francis 
Billington.      He  had  an   axe  on 
his  shoulder  and  was  wending  his 
way  toward  the  village. 
He    bowed   and    passed 
on;  but  there  was  some 
thing     in      the     man's 
glance       which       filled 
Mathew     with     uneasi 
ness. 

"That  man!  That 
man,  with  a  face  brim 
ming  o'er  with  evil!" 
gasped  Alice. 

"  His  name  is  Billing- 

,     ,,  HE  PAUSED  FOR  HER  ANSWER. 

"Billington!  Billington!     Did  you  say  Billing- 
ton?"  she  gasped. 

"Yes,  Francis  Billington!"     Noticing  that   she 


118  THE  PILGRIMS. 

shuddered,  he  asked:  "Did  you  ever  see  him 
before?" 

"Did  he  come  from  London?" 

"Yes." 

"I — I  have  seen  him." 

Billington  had  gone  before  them,  disappearing 
over  the  hill,  and  when  Alice  came  in  sight  of 
her  home,  she  saw  him  leaving  their  cottage. 
Mathew  was  so  earnestly  urging  his  suit,  that  he 
did  not  see  the  man  as  he  hastened  away. 

"Alice,  listen  to  me!  Tell  me  when  you  can 
fix  the  day.  I  have  the  home  almost  ready,"  he 
was  saying. 

"Wait,  Mathew,  until  to-morrow." 

"Will  you  give  me  my  answer  to-morrow?" 

"I  will  talk  with  my  mother  to-night." 

He  left  her  at  the  cottage  door,  and  with  a 
lighter  heart,  hastened  down  the  hill  toward  the 
home  of  Mr.  Brewster. 

He  had  just  crossed  the  running  brook  which 
flowed  near  the  house,  when  a  man,  coming  down 
among  the  trees,  called  to  him. 

"Ho!   Mathew,  wait  a  moment." 

He  stopped.  Francis  Billington  was  coming 
toward  him.  He  had  been  to  his  own  house  and 
ran  across  the  hill  to  intercept  him.  "Wait, 
friend  Mathew,  I  would  a  word  with  ye." 

Mathew  Stevens  paused  by  a  large  moss-grown 


ALICE.  119 

stone  on  the  banks  of  the  brooklet,  and  turned  his 
eyes  suspiciously  on  the  man.  "  Nay,  Mathew,  be 
not  offended  at  me,  for  I  would  be  yer  friend." 

Mathew  had  avoided  Billington  since  their  quar 
rel  over  the  tools.  Billington  had  made  strong 
efforts  to  reconcile  him;  but  the  young  Spaniard 
had  concluded  it  best  to  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  him. 

"Do  ye  know  the  maid  whom  I  saw?"  Billing 
ton  said. 

"I  certainly  do." 

"How  long  have  ye  known  her?" 

"  Since  she  was  a  little  girl  and  set  me  free  while 
you  were  drinking  in  the  tap-room." 

It  was  Billington's  turn  to  be  astonished,  and, 
opening  wide  his  eyes,  he  said: 

"Did  she  do  it?" 

"She  did." 

A  single  instant  his  eyes  flashed  fire;  but  he  re 
covered  himself  and  asked: 

"When  did  ye  see  her  again?" 

"Three  years  ago  in  London." 

"Do  ye  know  her  mother  was  a  sister  of  the  late 
William  White?" 

"Yes." 

"The  mother's  name  is  White?" 

"Yes." 

"The  daughter's  name  is  White?" 


120  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"Of  course." 

"  The  mother  and  brother  have  the  same  name, 
eh?  Ah,  Mathew,  ye  must  be  a  dullard  not  to 
know  that  a  sister  changes  her  name  when  she 
weds." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Mathew  demanded, 
starting  to  his  feet,  his  eyes  flashing  with  rage. 

"Nay,  nay;  be  calmer.  Sit  ye  down  and  listen 
to  all  I  have  to  say." 

Mathew  was  induced  to  listen  to  him,  and  just 
as  the  golden  rays  of  the  setting  sun  gilded  the 
western  landscape,  the  evil  genius  of  the  young 
Spaniard  concluded  his  long  harangue  with  the 
following  strange  but  logical  argument: 

"  The  maid  to  whom  ye  are  betrothed  is  Alice 
White;  her  mother  is  Sarah  White,  whose  brother 
was  the  late  William  White.  Now,  verily,  where 
there  is  so  much  White,  there  needs  must  be  some 
black.  Have  a  care.  Alice's  mother  was  White 
when  a  maid,  is  still  White.  Verily,  ivas  she  ever 
married?  Have  a  care — beware  of  that  maid.  Be 
not  too  hasty  to  possess  a  nameless  bride!"  And 
having  filled  Mathew's  mind  with  horrible  conject 
ures,  Billington  left  him. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE    GROWING    HEMISPHERE. 

Hear,  Father,  hear  thy  faint,  afflicted  flock 
Cry  to  thee,  from  the  desert  rock  ; 
While  those  who  seek  to  slay  thy  children  hold 
Blasphemous  worship  under  roofs  of  gold  ; 
And  the  broad,  goodly  lands,  with  pleasant  airs 
That  nurse  the  grape  and  wave  the  grain,  are  theirs. 

—BRYANT. 

THE  history  of  the  United  States  is  the  warp 
and  woof  of  a  wonderful  romance.  From  Colum 
bus  to  the  present  is  one  grandly  sublime  serial 
story,  each  instalment  of  which  is  a  sequel  of  the 
preceding  age.  Epoch  is  so  linked  with  epoch, 
that  separation  breaks  the  thread  of  the  romance. 

The  destinies  of  the  Spanish,  French,  Dutch 
and  English  are  strangely  interwoven  and,  taken 
as  a  comprehensive  whole,  make  up  the  romance 
of  the  New  World. 

We  have  already  seen  how  the  Pilgrims  were 

brought  into  close  relations  with  the  Dutch  through 

their     banishment     from     England    to     Leyden. 

Though  they  disapproved    the   loose  morals    and 

121 


122  THE   PILGRIMS. 

irreligious  customs  of  the  Netherlands,  they  left 
many  personal  friends  in  Holland.  The  history 
of  the  Pilgrims  would  be  incomplete  without  some 
reference  to  the  Dutch. 

As  we  have  so  frequently  had  occasion  to  refer 
to  the  Dutch  West  India  Company,  it  will,  per 
haps,  be  in  order  at  this  point  in  our  story  to  make 
some  explanation  of  it.  In  the  year  1602,  Dutch 
merchants  in  the  Indian  trade  formed  an  associ 
ation  with  a  capital  of  more  than  a  million  dollars, 
under  the  corporate  title  of  The  Dutch  East  India 
Company.  The  government  of  Holland  gave  them 
the  exclusive  privilege  of  trading  in  the  Eastern 
seas  between  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  the 
Straits  of  Magellan — that  is  to  say,  over  all  the 
Indian  and  South  Pacific  Oceans  between  Africa 
and  America.  The  enterprise  was  so  profitable, 
that  an  application  was  made  to  the  government, 
in  1607,  for  the  incorporation  of  the  Dutch  West 
Indian  Company  to  trade  along  the  coast  of 
Africa,  from  the  tropics  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
and  from  New  Foundland  to  Cape  Horn  along  the 
continent  of  America.  Political  considerations 
arising  from  some  delicate  relations  in  connection 
with  Spain  deferred  the  issuing  the  charter  for 
such  a  company  for  several  years. 

It  was  in  the  service  of  the  East  India  Com 
pany  that  Henry  Hudson  sailed  on  his  famous  voy- 


THE    GROWING    HEMISPHERE.  123 

age  to  discover  the  northwest  passage  to  India  and, 
while  searching  for  it,  discovered  the  Hudson 
River  and  New  York  Bay.  The  rumor  that  the 
region  discovered  by  Hudson  literally  swarmed 
with  fur-bearing  animals  excited  the  cupidity  of 
the  Dutch,  who  had  recently  experienced  the  pleas 
ures  of  a  profitable  fur  trade  which  they  had 
opened  with  northern  Russia.  Manhattan  Island, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  was  naturally  so  well 
adapted  for  commercial  purposes,  that  it  was  made 
the  central  point  where  the  treasures  of  the  forests 
and  streams  were  gathered. 

Among  the  many  bold  navigators  to  come  to  this 
New  World  was  Adrien  Block  of  the  Tigress. 
Late  in  autumn  of  1613,  she  lay  in  New  York  har 
bor  laden  with  valuable  furs  ready  to  spread  her 
white  wings  for  her  native  shore.  While  the  mas 
ter  and  most  of  the  crew  were  on  shore  taking  a 
farewell  of  the  friendly  Indians,  the  vessel  acci 
dentally  took  fire  and  burned  to  the  water's  edge. 
For  awhile  the  Dutchmen  found  shelter  in  the  frail 
wigwams  of  the  Indians,  and  then  built  themselves 
houses  of  logs,  cut  from  trees  where  the  ware 
houses  of  Beaver  Street  .now  stand.  Before  spring 
the  oaks  that  sheltered  black  bears  on  the  wooded 
slopes,  where  the  "bulls"  of  Wall  Street  now  daily 
combat  with  the  bruins  of  finance,  were  converted 
into  a  trim  and  staunch  little  craft  of  sixteen  tons, 


124  THE   PILGRIMS. 

named  the  Onrust  (Restless),  a  prophetic  title  of 
the  restless  activity  which  two  centuries  and  a  half 
later  was  to  mark  the  island  of  Manhattan.  The 
little  hamlet  built  by  the  shipwrecked  Dutchmen 
was  the  nucleus  of  the  great  metropolis,  New  York 
City. 

In  the  spring  of  1614,  Block  left  the  island  of 
Manhattan,  passed  through  Hell  Gate  into  Long 
Island  Sound,  discovered  and  explored  the  rivers 
Housatonic,  Connecticut,  and  Thames,  anchored  in 
the  bay  of  New  Haven,  touched  at  Montauk  Point 
on  the  eastern  end  of  Long  Island  and  landed  at  a 
small  island  further  eastward,  which  Verrazzani 
had  discovered  almost  fifty  years  before.  He  sailed 
to  the  shores  of  all  the  islands  arid  the  main  from 
Narragansett  Bay  around  to  Nahant,  beyond  Bos 
ton  Harbor.  The  plague  had  not  yet  visited 
Patuxet,  and  the  country  which  the  Pilgrims  six 
years  later  found  almost  depopulated  was  filled 
with  comely,  timid  people.  Block  here  fell  in 
with  the  ship  Fortune  and  sailed  to  Holland,  where 
he  gave  the  deputies  of  the  Amsterdam  company  an 
account  of  his  discovery.  It  was  seen  at  once  that 
these  discoveries  were  of  immense  political  as  well 
as  commercial  value.  Block  was  one  of  the  dep 
uties  who  went  to  the  States-General  meeting  in 
the  Binnenhof .  He  spread  his  map  upon  the  table 
and  their  value  as  parts  of  the  territories  of  the 


THE   GROWING   HEMISPHERE.  125 

Dutch  was  fully  set  forth.  The  States-General 
gladly  complied  with  the  wishes  of  the  company, 
and,  on  the  llth  of  October,  1614,  a  charter  was 
given  them,  duly  signed  and  sealed,  by  which  the 
petitioners  were  granted  the  usual  privileges  of  the 
ordinance.  The  territory  included  in  the  charter, 
and  which  was  defined  as  lying  between  Virginia 
and  New  France,  between  the  parallels  of  forty  and 
forty-five  degrees,  was  called  New  Netherland. 

The  charter  was  granted  for  only  four  years,  at 
the  end  of  which  time  the  government  refused  to 
renew  it,  as  it  contemplated  the  issuing  of  a  larger 
and  more  comprehensive  charter  to  a  West  India 
Company.  Dutch  navigators,  meanwhile,  entered 
and  explored  the  Delaware  Bay  and  River,  prob 
ably  as  far  up  as  the  falls  of  Trenton;  and  on  the 
site  of  Philadelphia  they  ransomed  three  Dutch 
traders,  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  In 
dians.  Efforts  were  made  to  obtain  a  four  years' 
trading  charter  for  that  region  also;  but  the  States- 
General,  considering  the  domain  a  part  of  Virginia, 
refused  to  grant  it. 

The  directors  of  the  New  Netherland  then  prose 
cuted  their  trading  enterprises  on  the  borders  of 
the  Hudson  with  increased  vigor.  They  enlarged 
the  Manhattan  storehouse,  and  the  little  hamlet 
which  Block  and  his  shipwrecked  sailors  had  es 
tablished  soon  grew  to  a  social  village.  The  traders 


126  THE   PILGRIMS. 

went  over  the  pine  barrens  into  the  Mohawk  valley 
and  became  acquainted  with  the  powerful  Iroquois 
league  of  Five  Confederate  Nations.  They  built  a 
new  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tawasentha,  now 
Normans-Kill,  a  little  below  Albany,  where  a 
treaty  of  friendship,  which  was  kept  inviolate,  was 
made  with  the  Five  Nations.  This  was  the  wisest 
stroke  of  policy  yet  made  by  any  European  power, 
for  the  Iroquois  League  was  powerful  enough  to 
have  swept  every  European  intruder  out  of  North 
America. 

The  settlements  of  the  Hollanders  were  too 
remote  from  Jamestown  to  excite  the  alarm  of  the 
English  there,  and  all  New  England  was,  up  to 
this  time,  a  wilderness.  The  Plymouth  Company 
complained  that  they  were  intruders  on  their  do 
main,  and  King  James  made  some  threats  which 
he  never  executed.  Captain  Dermer  of  an  English 
ship,  one  fine  morning  in  June,  1619,  while  on 
his  way  to  Virginia,  sailed  through  Long  Island 
Sound,  lost  his  anchor  in  an  encounter  with  the 
eddies  of  Hell  Gate,  and  flattered  himself  that  he 
was  the  original  discoverer  of  that  "most  danger 
ous  cataract"  as  well  as  the  flowery  islands  between 
which  he  sailed.  On  reaching  New  York  Bay  he 
was  amazed  to  see  the  smoke  issuing  from  Dutch 
cottages,  and  to  discover  quite  a  village  on  Man 
hattan  Island.  He  did  not  pause  then  to  interview 


THE   HOI.I.ANUKUS    ]>!!>   NOT    *EE1I   TO   BE    IN   THE   LEAST   AT.A.KMZD   AT   HIS  THREATS. 


THE.    GROWING    HEMISPHERE.  127 

the  intruders,  but,  on  his  return,  felt  it  his  duty 
to  go  in  and  warn  the  traffickers  to  leave  his 
majesty's  domain  as  quickly  as  possible;  but  the 
Hollanders  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  alarmed 
at  his  threats. 

"We  found  no  Englishmen  here,  and  we  hope 
we  have  not  offended,"  a  good-natured  Dutchman 
replied  to  the  harangue  of  the  English  captain, 
and  the  Hollanders  went  on  smoking  their  pipes, 
planting  their  gardens,  and  catching  beavers  and 
otters,  as  if  they  had  never  heard  of  Captain  Der- 
mer,  the  "loving subject"  of  the  dread  King  James 
of  England.  The  royal  bluster  which  came  in 
fitful  gusts  from  the  throne  of  England  did  not 
deter  the  States-General  from  helping  the  Dutch  in 
New  Netherland,  and  they  proceeded  to  charter 
the  Dutch  West  India  Company,  making  it  a  great 
commercial  monopoly,  by  giving  it  almost  kingly 
powers  to  colonize,  govern,  and  defend,  not  only 
the  little  domain  on  the  Hudson,  but  the  whole 
unoccupied  coasts  of  America  from  New  Found- 
land  to  Cape  Horn,  and  the  western  coast  of 
Africa,  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  far  northward. 

In  this  charter,  republicanism  was  recognized 
as  the  true  system  of  government,  in  its  broadest 
and  purest  sense,  as  the  prime  element  of  political 
strength.  Nativity  and  creed  were  to  be  no  bar 
to  a  stranger.  The  authors  of  the  Declaration  of 


128  THE  PILGRIMS. 

Independence  may  have  drawn  some  inspiration 
from  this  document. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  build,  to  plant  and  to  become 
a  citizen?"  was  the  sum  total  of  their  catechism. 
This  charter  was  granted  during  the  first  year  of 
the  Pilgrims'  residence  at  Plymouth,  and  it  was 
two  years  later  before  the  company  was  organized. 

Meanwhile  the  Plymouth  Company  had  obtained 
a  new  charter  as  has  already  been  stated.  A  more 
tryannical  charter  with  more  absolute  powers  was 
never  granted.  Without  consent  of  the  Plymouth 
Company,  no  ships  could  enter  the  harbor  on  the 
American  coast  between  New  Foundland  and  the 
latitude  of  Philadelphia;  not  a  fish  could  be  caught 
within  three  miles  of  the  American  coast;  not  a 
skin  trafficked  for  in  the  forest,  nor  an  emigrant  live 
upon  the  soil.  This  extraordinary  charter  was 
signed  by  the  king  a  week  before  the  arrival  of  the 
Mayflower  off  Cape  Cod  with  the  Pilgrims,  and  that 
little  colony  of  heroes,  who  had  braved  the  terrors 
of  the  Atlantic  for  the  sake  of  freedom,  were  pro- 
spectively  subjected  to  an  almost  irresponsible  des 
potism.  The  House  of  Commons,  alarmed  at  this 
delegation  of  despotic  powers  to  a  grasping  corpo 
ration,  presented  the  patent  as  the  first  of  "the 
public  grievances  of  the  kingdom."  The  French 
embassador  in  London  protested  against  it,  because 
Canada  was  included  within  the  limits  of  the  Plym- 


THE   GROWING   HEMISPHERE.  129 

outh  Company's  charter,  and  a  little  later  the 
captain  of  the  French  vessel  anchored  in  the  mouth 
of  the  Hudson  River  attempted  to  set  up  the  arms 
of  France  there  and  take  possession  of  the  country 
in  the  name  of  the  king.  The  Dutch  were  of 
course  very  much  exercised  over  the  charter,  for,  as 
it  was  literally  construed,  it  robbed  them  of  their 
possessions  in  New  Netherland.  Thus  we  see  the 
land,  which,  from  the  first,  was  regarded  as  a  refuge 
for  the  persecuted,  torn  with  factions  and  held  by 
great  grasping  corporations  more  tyrannical  than 
the  most  despotic  monarch.  The  first  emigrants 
as  tenants  of  the  corporators  were  in  fact  little  bet 
ter  than  serfs;  but  the  new  world  was  growing. 
The  persecuted  within  the  mysterious  depths  of 
the  great  old  forests  found  seclusion,  peace  and 
safety,  and  they  came  as  did  the  Pilgrims,  depend 
ing  on  God. 

At  this  time  there  were  thousands  of  refugees 
from  persecution  in  the  Netherlands.  Among  these 
was  a  class  called  Walloons.  The  Walloons  were 
of  French  extraction.  They  had  inhabited  the 
southern  Belgic  provinces  of  Hainault,  Namur, 
Luxemburg,  Limburg  and  a  part  of  the  bishopric 
of  Liege.  When  the  northern  provinces  of  the 
Netherland  formed  their  union  more  than  forty 
years  before,  these  southern  provinces,  whose  in 
habitants  were  mostly  Roman  Catholics,  declined 
9 


130  THE   PILGRIMS. 

to  join  the  confederation.  There  were  many  Prot 
estants  in  those  provinces,  and  they  were  made  to 
feel  in  all  its  rigor  the  full  effect  of  Spanish  per 
secution.  Thousands  of  them  fled  to  Holland, 
where  strangers  of  every  race  and  creed  were  wel 
come.  The  Walloons  were  a  hardy  race,  skilful, 
industrious  and  honest,  and  they  introduced  many 
useful  arts  into  their  adopted  country. 

From  Holland  the  emigration  to  New  Nether- 
land  was  a  natural  result.  On  a  beautiful  May 
morning,  the  Walloons  landed  on  the  rocky  shore, 
where  Castle  Garden  for  so  long  was  the  first  recip 
ient  of  the  emigrant.  They  made  a  picturesque 
appearance  as  they  ascended  the  bank  in  their 
quaint  costume,  every  man  carrying  some  article  of 
domestic  use,  and  many  a  woman  carrying  a  babe 
or  small  child  in  her  arms.  They  were  cordially 
welcomed  by  the  resident  traders  and  friendly  In 
dians,  and  under  a  great  tent  made  of  sails  a  boun 
teous  feast  was  spread.  After  the  feast,  a  minister 
who  was  with  them  offered  up  a  fervent  prayer  to 
God.  May,  the  first  director,  then  read  his  com 
mission  and  formally  assumed  governorship  of  the 
colony  and  country.  In  order  to  secure  as  wide  a 
domain  as  possible,  the  Walloons  were  sent  to 
different  points  to  form  settlements.  Some  settled 
on  Long  Island  and  founded  the  city  of  Brooklyn. 
Others  went  up  the  Connecticut  River  to  a  point 


THE   GROWING    HEMISPHERE.  131 

near  the  site  of  Hartford  and  built  Fort  Good 
Hope.  Others  planted  themselves  in  the  present 
Ulster  County,  New  York,  and  others  settled  at 
Albany,  where  the  Dutch  erected  Fort  Orange. 
Others  went  to  the  Delaware  and  began  a  settle 
ment  at  the  mouth  of  Timber  Creek,  on  the  east 
side  of  the  river,  a  few  miles  below  the  site  of 
Philadelphia,  and  built  a  small  military  station, 
which  they  called  Fort  Nassau.  The  Dutch  part 
of  the  New  World  was  growing.  Shiploads  of 
valuable  furs  began  to  reach  Holland  from  New 
Netherland,  and  the  jealous  growls  of  King  James 
became  more  ominous. 

In  1G2G,  Minuit,  the  new  governor,  arrived  at 
Manhattan  in  the  ship  Sea  Mew.  The  first  official 
act  of  the  new  governor  was  to  enter  into  nego 
tiations  with  the  Indians  for  the  purchase  of  Man 
hattan  Island,  so  as  to  obtain  a  more  valid  title  to 
its  possession  than  that  of  discovery  and  occupation. 
It  was  estimated  that  it  contained  about  twenty- 
two  thousand  acres  of  land,  and  it  was  purchased 
for  the  West  India  Company  for  a  sum  amounting 
to  about  twenty-four  dollars.  A  fort  was  built  on 
the  lower  end  of  the  island,  now  called  the  Battery, 
and  named  Fort  Amsterdam.  From  this  fort  the 
cannon  commanded  the  entrances  to  the  Hudson 
and  the  East  River.  The  town  which  sprang  up 
about  the  fort  was  called  New  Amsterdam,  which 


132  THE   PILGRIMS. 

name  it  retained  until  it  was  surrendered  to  the 
English,  when  the  city  was  christened  New  York. 

While  French  and  English  colonists  from  free 
Holland  were  planting  settlements  on  the  Delaware 
and  Hudson  Rivers  and  the  borders  of  Cape  Cod 
Bay,  a  seed  time  had  begun  in  that  portion  of  New 
England  soil  now  covered  by  the  States  of  New 
Hampshire  and  Maine.  The  sweeping  charter, 
which  had  met  such  a  storm  of  opposition  in  the 
English  House  of  Commons,  brought  into  Parlia 
ment  the  first  general  discussion  of  American 
affairs.  Gorges  and  Calvert  defended  the  charter, 
relying  on  the  king's  prerogative  as  the  ground 
work  of  their  argument.  The  charter  was  opposed 
by  those  philanthropists,  Sir  Edwin  Sandys  and 
the  venerable  Sir  Edwin  Coke,  who  had  been  Lord 
Chief-Justice  of  England. 

For  the  good  of  the  public,  Sandys  pleaded  for 
freedom  in  fishing  and  general  commerce,  which 
was  then  becoming  a  staple  wealth  of  England. 
"The  fishermen  hinder  the  plantations,"  replied 
Calvert,  a  champion  of  the  sweeping  charter. 
"They  choke  the  harbor  with  their  ballast,  and 
waste  the  forest  by  their  improvident  use.  Amer 
ica  is  not  annexed  to  the  realm,  nor  within  the 
jurisdiction  of  Parliament;  you  therefore  have  no 
right  to  interfere." 

"  We  make  laws  for  Virginia,"  another  member 


THE   GROWING    HEMISPHERE.  133 

replied.  "  A  bill  passed  by  the  Lords  and  Com 
mons,  if  it  receives  the  king's  assent,  will  control 
the  patent." 

Sir  Edward  Coke  argued,  with  references  to  the 
statutes  of  the  realm,  that  as  the  charter  was 
granted  without  regard  to  pre-existing  rights,  it 
was  necessarily  void.  This  attack  upon  the  royal 
prerogative  aroused  the  angry  monarch,  who  sat 
near  the  speaker's  chair,  and  caused  him  to  blurt 
out: 

"Would  you  presume  on  the  divine  rights  of 
kings?"  This  so  roused  the  Commons  that  they 
passed  a  bill  giving  freedom  to  commerce  in  spite 
of  the  charter.  Before  the  bill  had  become  a  law, 
the  king  dissolved  Parliament  and  issued  a  procla 
mation  forbidding  any  vessel  to  approach  the  shores 
of  North  Virginia  without  the  special  consent  of 
the  Plymouth  Company.  Francis  West  was  com 
missioned  Admiral  of  New  England  and  was  sent 
to  protect  the  chartered  rights  of  the  company. 
The  domain  to  be  guarded  was  too  large,  and  his 
force  was  too  feeble  to  seize  the  fast  sailing  fishing 
vessels.  At  the  next  meeting  of  Parliament,  a  long 
and  bitter  discussion  ensued  on  the  charter,  which 
Sir  Edward  Coke  declared  unconstitutional.  A  bill 
granting  the  right  to  fish  on  the  shores  of  New 
England  without  consent  of  the  Plymouth  Com 
pany  was  passed,  though  it  never  received  the  sig- 


134  THE  PILGRIMS. 

nature  of  the  king.  The  monopolists,  discouraged 
by  the  opposition  of  the  Commons,  lowered  their 
pretensions,  and  many  of  the  patentees  withdrew 
their  interests  in  the  company.  Those  who  re 
mained  did  little  more  than  issue  grants  of  domain 
in  the  northeastern  parts  of  America. 

Among  the  grants  of  domain  by  the  Plymouth 
Company  was  one  to  Captain  John  Mason,  who  had 
been  governor  of  New  Foundland.  It  embraced 
the  country  in  Massachusetts,  between  Salem  and 
Newburyport,  inland  to  the  sources  of  the  Merri- 
mac  River,  and  all  the  islands  on  its  sea  front, 
within  three  miles  of  the  coast.  To  forestall  French 
settlements  in  the  East,  and  to  secure  the  country 
to  the  Protestants,  Gorges  procured  a  grant  to 
Sir  William  Alexander  of  the  whole  main  eastward 
of  the  St.  Croix  River  excepting  a  small  portion 
in  Acadia. 

Gorges  and  Mason  projected  plans  for  a  very 
extensive  colonization.  They  obtained  a  patent 
for  the  country  along  the  coast  of  New  England, 
between  the  Merrimac  and  Kennebec  Rivers  and 
back  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  under  the  title  of  the 
Province  of  Laconia.  Although  settlements  were 
projected  and  attempted  in  this  country,  which  was 
represented  as  being  a  veritable  paradise,  none  be 
came  permanent  until  about  the  year  1630.  Mason 
and  Gorges  agreed  to  divide  their  territory  at  the, 


THE   GROWING   HEMISPHERE.  135 

Piscataqua  River,  and,  in  1629,  the  former  ob 
tained  a  patent  for  the  country  between  that  river 
and  the  Merrimac  and  gave  it  the  name  of  New 
Hampshire.  In  1631,  he  built  a  house  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Piscataqua  and  named  the  spot  Ports 
mouth.  Having  been  governor  of  Portsmouth  and 
Hampshire  in  England,  he  transferred  these  names 
to  the  new  world.  Four  years  later  he  died,  and 
his  widow  attempted  to  manage  his  large  estates; 
but  they  passed  into  the  hands  of  his  creditors. 
A  handful  of  settlers  were  left  to  themselves  to 
fashion  an  independent  State,  and,  though  the 
growth  of  the  State  was  slow,  there  was  a  steady 
advancement.  There  was  then  only  one  agricul 
tural  settlement  in  all  New  England,  excepting 
Massachusetts,  and  scarcely  the  germ  of  a  State 
had  appeared.  Most  of  the  colonists  were  mere 
squatters,  moving  from  place  to  place  as  game  and 
fish  became  scarce,  and  were  little  better  than  the 
aborigines. 

The  Plymouth  Company  neglected  their  vari 
ous  plantations,  when  they  found  the  expense  of 
maintaining  them  exceeded  the  income  and  threat 
ened  the  corporation  with  financial  ruin.  Mean 
while,  the  French  resolved  to  maintain  their  hold 
on  New  France,  and  they  were  building  forts  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Penobscot  and  threatening  to  seize 
the  territory  between  that  river  and  the  Kennebec. 


136  THE   PILGRIMS. 

To  add  to  the  general  calamity  and  gloom  which 
seemed  to  overshadow  English  possessions  in  the 
New  World,  the  Indians  were  showing  decided 
evidences  of  restlessness,  and  it  required  no  prophet 
to  predict  a  general  uprising  in  the  near  future. 

In  1625,  King  James  died,  and  his  son  Charles 
I.  ascended  to  the  throne.  His  ideas  of  the  divine 
rights  of  kings  were  no  doubt  inherited  from  his 
bigoted  father — ideas  which  had  much  to  do  with 
his  downfall.  Gorges  was  summoned  before  the 
House  of  Commons  to  show  cause  why  his  charter 
should  not  be  revoked.  He  defended  the  company 
against  various  charges  with  vigor,  until  he  and 
his  associates  perceived  that  further  contention 
would  be  useless,  and  provided  for  its  dissolution. 
North  Virginia  was  divided  into  twelve  royal  prov 
inces  and  assigned  to  persons  named,  and  at  the  last 
meeting  in  April,  1635,  the  company  caused  to 
be  entered  upon  their  minutes  the  following  record: 

"We  have  been  bereaved  of  friends,  oppressed 
by  losses,  expenses  and  troubles,  assailed  before 
the  Privy  Council  again  and  again  with  groundless 
charges,  weakened  by  the  French  and  other  forces 
without  and  within  the  realm,  and  what  remains  is 
only  a  breathless  carcass.  We,  therefore,  now  re 
sign  the  patent  to  the  king,  first  reserving  all  grants 
by  us  made  and  all  vested  rights,  a  patent  we  have 
holden  about  fifteen  years." 


THE   GROWING    HEMISPHERE.  137 

After  the  dissolution  of  the  company,  the  king 
appointed  eleven  of  his  Privy  Council  a  "  Board  of 
Lords  Commissioners  of  all  the  American  Planta 
tions,"  and  committed  to  them  the  general  direc 
tion  of  colonial  affairs.  Gorges,  who,  though  sixty 
years  of  age,  was  robust  and  vigorous  in  mind  and 
body,  was  appointed  Governor-General  of  New 
England,  although  he  never  reached  America. 
His  nephew,  William  Gorges,  was  sent  over  as  his 
lieutenant  to  administer  the  government.  He  made 
his  headquarters  at  Saco,  where  he  found  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  inhabitants  governed  by  a  social 
compact.  Here  he  established  a  regular  govern 
ment  on  the  28th  of  March,  1636,  the  first  within 
the  State  of  Maine.  He  formed  laws  for  his  col 
ony;  but  they  were  little  heeded  in  America,  for 
already  the  inhabitants  of  the  New  World  had  be 
gun  to  scent  liberty  afar  off.  Gorges  lived  eight 
years  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  vice-royal  honors, 
and  soon  after  his  death  his  possessions  in  America 
passed  under  the  jurisdiction  of  Massachusetts. 

Thus  we  find  a  growing  world  about  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers,  which,  in  the  distant  future,  was  destined 
to  swallow  them  up,  forming  a  great  commonwealth 
of  which  they  were  to  be  a  component  part.  Per 
haps  this  digression  has  already  taken  the  reader 
too  far  from  our  story,  so  we  will  return  to  it  at 
once. 


CHAPTEK  VIII. 

THE   SKELETON    IN   THE    CLOSET. 

"  Life  hath  its  sins.    Repent,  confess  and  cleanse  thy  soul  1 
No  closets  build. 
The  closets  filled 

With  soft-boned  baby  skeletons  in  youth, 
Will  ope  some  day  with  ruth 
To  giant  skeletons  with  iron  frame, 
That  stalk  the  heart  to  rive  and  tear, 
And  then  creep  back  with  care 
To  lie  in  wait ;  some  other  day  to  fare 
Abroad  in  hand  with  shame." 

— MRS.    PREWITT-DONEGHY. 

ON  returning  from  her  stroll  with  Mathew  Ste 
vens,  Alice  White  found  her  mother  in  tears.  She 
opened  her  eyes  wide  in  wonder  and  asked: 

"Mother,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"Nothing,  child." 

How  often  one  tries  to  conceal  a  heart-rending 
burden  beneath  an  ambiguous  "nothing."  Alice 
was  too  shrewd  to  be  deceived.  Coming  in  as  she 
did  out  of  the  warm  sunlight  of  Mathew 's  love,  the 
chilling  tears  of  an  unknown  grief  produced  a 
shock  to  her  nervous  system,  and  poor  Alice  felt 

138 


THE  SKELETON  IN  THE   CLOSET.  139 

as  if  all  her  hopes  would  sink.  Going  to  her 
mother,  she  placed  her  arms  about  her  and  cried: 

"Mother,  mother,  tell  me  what  makes  you 
weep." 

Sarah  White  brushed  away  her  tears  and,  with 
a  feeble  effort  to  smile,  answered: 

"Oh,  child,  it  is  nothing  to  bother  you  with;  it 
is  really  nothing." 

"You  need  not  tell  me  it  is  nothing.  You  are 
not  wont  to  fall  to  weeping  over  nothing." 

"  Why  should  an  old  woman,  whose  nerves  are 
shattered  as  mine  are,  trouble  you  with  matters 
which  interest  you  not?  " 

With  an  effort  to  check  her  mother's  tears,  Alice 
said,  "  Mother,  some  one  has  been  here  since  I 
left." 

Mrs.  White  was  too  truthful  to  deny  the  asser 
tion. 

"It  was  the  man  Billington,  the  same  who  used 
to  annoy  you  in  London,"  continued  Alice. 

"You  have  seen  him  then?  You  know  he  is  in 
America?  " 

"Yes;  I  saw  him  leave  the  house  as  we  ap 
proached." 

The  widow  heaved  a  sigh  and  said: 

"Don't  think  of  him;  he  will  not,  he  cannot 
harm  you." 

"Is  he  the  cause  of  these  tears?  " 


140  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"Don't  think  about  it,  Alice.  Oh,  my  nerves 
are  quite  upset." 

"He  is  the  cause,  mother;  I  know  it,"  cried 
Alice,  sinking  into  a  chair  and  burying  her  face  in 
her  hands. 

"Forget  it,  Alice.  It  really  does  no  good  to 
dwell  on  the  subject.  What  cannot  be  cured  must 
be  endured;  so,  child,  learn  to  bear  your  cross 
with  meekness  and  resignation." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"I  cannot  tell." 

For  a  long  time  Alice  sat  with  her  hands  clasped 
and  her  eyes  raised  m  mute  appeal  to  her  mother's 
face.  She.  was  trying  to  read  her  soul.  Sarah 
White,  unable  to  meet  the  burning  gaze  of  her 
daughter,  averted  her  head  and  was  silent.  Alice 
at  last  spoke,  and  her  voice  was  changed  and  hol 
low  as  if  every  word  were  wrung  in  agony  from  a 
tortured  heart: 

"Mother,  what  is  this  terrible  mystery?  Won't 
you  explain  it  to  me;  can't  you  explain  it?  Why 
is  Francis  Billington,  like  an  evil  genius,  following 
us  wherever  we  go?  Why  can  we  find  no  city 
large  enough,  no  forest  deep  enough  to  hide  us 
from  his  evil  e}-es?  Wherever  we  go,  there  he 
is.  From  Plymouth  to  the  Downs,  from  the 
Downs  to  Lincolnshire,  thence  to  London,  he  hath 
pursued  us,  and  when,  hoping  to  find  an  asylum 


THE  SKELETON   IN   THE   CLOSET.  141 

in  the  forests  of  America,  we  cross  the  ocean,  lo, 
we  find  him  here.  Everywhere  we  go,  wherever 
we  turn  we  find  him  there  to  heap  misery  on  ITS. 
Oh,  mother,  mother,  tell  me  what  means  all  this 
mystery!  "  and  Alice  broke  down  and  sobbed. 

Sarah  White  was  very  much  agitated;  but  she 
made  an  effort  to  seem  calm  and  assured  her  daugh 
ter  that  they  had  no  cause  to  apprehend  any  evil 
from  Billington,  though  she  left  the  mystery  still 
veiled.  A  pebble  may  change  the  current  of  a 
rivulet,  a  rivulet  may  alter  the  channel  of  a  stream, 
and  a  stream  may  sometimes  alter  the  channel  of  a 
river;  so  may  a  small  affair  change  happiness  to 
misery.  A  single  sigh,  a  single  tear,  a  frown  or 
an  unkind  word  may  drive  the  sunshine  from  a 
happy  heart.  Already  Alice  had  forgotten  how 
happy  she  was  a  few  moments  before  with  Mathew 
at  her  side,  pouring  his  talc  of  love  in  her  ears. 
Darkness  and  despair  now  reigned  in  this  young 
heart,  where,  but  a  few  moments  before,  all  was 
joy  and  sunlight. 

Alice  was  not  the  only  one  who  suffered  on  that 
night.  Mathew  Stevens  went  from  the  interview 
with  Billington  with  a  load  on  his  heart.  At  first 
the  shock  produced  by  the  suggestion  of  Billington 
was  so  great  that  it  benumbed  his  sensibilities; 
but  as  the  stunning  effects  passed  away,  a  restless 
uneasiness,  the  heavy,  oppressive  feeling  of  men- 


142  THE   PILGRIMS. 

tal  worry,  which  destroys  digestion  and  makes 
life  miserable,  took  possession  of  him.  He  went 
home,  trying  to  thrust  aside  the  warning  of  Bil- 
lington. 

"He  is  a  knave,  very  much  given  to  lying,"  he 
reasoned  with  himself.  "  He  never  is  so  happy  as 
when  making  some  one  miserable.  Billington  is 
one  of  those  persons  who  serve  Satan.  I  won't 
believe  him.  I  won't  allow  my  thoughts  to  dwell 
on  what  he  has  said.  I  will  forget  it." 

It  was  much  easier  to  form  the  resolution  than 
to  carry  it  out.  One  is  not  always  master  of  his 
own  thoughts,  and  he  often  found  himself  recur 
ring  to  the  argument  of  Billington:  "She  was 
White  before  she  was  married.  She  is  still  White. 
Verily,  where  there  is  so  much  White,  there  needs 
must  be  some  black.  Was  she  ever  married?  " 

He  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  next  day  went 
to  his  labors  with  an  aching  head  and  a  heavy 
heart.  On  his  way  he  met  his  friend  John  Alden. 
John  was  not  slow  to  notice  that  the  face  of  his 
friend  betrayed  care  and  sorrow. 

"What  troubles  you,  Mathew?"  Alden  asked. 
"Hath  Alice  refused  to  become  your  wife?  " 

"She  will  not  fix  the  day,"  Mathew  answered 
evasively. 

"You  have  had  the  courage  to  tell  the  maid  of 
your  love?" 


THE  SKELETON  IN  THE   CLOSET. 


143 


"I  have." 

"I  would  that  I  could  do  the  same,"  and  John 
heaved  a  sigh,  which  startled  Mathew.  Had  he  a 
rival  in  his  friend?  Mathew  had  been  trained  in 


"WHAT  TROUBLES  YOU,  MATHEW?" 

a  school  to  which  deceit  had  no  admission,  for  the 
Pilgrims  were  blunt  and  plain  spoken  people. 

"Do  you  love  her,  John?  "  he  asked. 

"Priscilla?" 


144  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"No,  Alice  White?" 

John  saw  his  friend's  mistake  and,  smiling, 
answered : 

"No,  Mathew;  I  am  no  rival  for  that  maid's 
hand." 

"Then why  your  remark:  'I  would  that  I  could 
do  the  same?  ' 

"It  is  not  Alice  White,  but  Priscilla  Mullins, 
who  hath  won  my  heart,"  John  answered,  blushing 
like  a  school-boy. 

"Then,  John,  why  do  you  not  tell  her  so?  for, 
surely,  you  can  win  her." 

"Alas,  no!"  John  answered,  and,  sitting  on  a 
log,  he  took  his  steeple-crowned  hat  to  fan  his 
heated  face. 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  Mathew. 

"Prythee,  sit  down,  Mathew;  I  have  something 
to  say." 

Mathew  Stevens  accordingly  took  a  seat  by  his 
friend's  side,  and  John  resumed: 

"I  have  a  rival  for  the  hand  and  heart  of  Pris 
cilla  Mullins." 

"Who,  pray,  is  this  rival?"  Mathew  asked. 

"It  is  a  rival  with  whom  I  am  unable  to  cope." 

There  was  a  look  of  despair  on  the  honest  young 
Pilgrim's  face.  Mathew  waited  a  moment,  as  if 
reconnoitring  the  ground  before  approaching  so 
delicate  a  subject,  and  then  asked: 


THE   SKELETON  IN   THE    CLOSET.  145 

"Who  is  your  rival?  " 

"Captain  Miles  Standish.  He  is  lonely  since 
he  laid  his  beautiful  wife  Rose  in  her  grave,  and 
now  he  looks  with  favor  on  the  beautiful  Priscilla." 

Mathew,  who  had  never  met  a  rival  in  love,  or 
a  foe  whom  he  feared  in  battle,  was  astonished  that 
his  friend  should  dread  even  Miles  Standish  as  a 
rival. 

"You  are  younger  than  the  captain  and,  I 
fancy,  more  to  her  liking.  Why  don't  you  go  in 
and  win  her?  " 

"I  would;  but  this  is  a  matter  of  honor,"  John 
Alden  sighed,  giving  his  head  a  shake  which 
seemed  to  emphasize  what  he  said. 

"Woo  Priscilla  fairly  and  honorably." 

"How  can  I?  Captain  Standish  is  my  friend, 
he  hath  confided  his  love  to  me,  and  it  would  now 
be  base  in  me  to  betray  him.  Not  only  did  he  tell 
me  of  his  love,  but  asked  me  to  aid  him." 

"And  what  answer  did  you  make  in  return?" 

"I  told  him  I  would." 

Mathew  could  not  clearly  see  any  way  out  of  the 
difficulty.  It  looked  as  if  honest  John  Alden 
had  Jay  his  voluntary  act  lost  all  chance  for  win 
ning  Priscilla.  After  a  few  moments,  he  said: 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  Captain  Standish  that 
you  loved  Priscilla  and  wished  to  wed  her  your 
self?" 

10 


146  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"How  could  I?  Captain  Standish  is  my  friend. 
Since  I  came  to  the  New  World,  his  roof  hath 
been  my  home.  In  danger  and  sickness  he  hath 
been  at  my  side,  and  he  once  saved  my  life  at  the 
risk  of  his  own.  He  told  me  of  his  love  for  Pris- 
cilla,  and  asked  me  to  aid  him  win  her,  and — I 
— I — promised  to  do  so." 

A  friend  of  the  present  day  would  have  given 
John  a  look  of  contempt  and  dismissed  him 
with  a  word  of  ridicule;  but  Mathew  Stevens  of 
old  Plymouth  was  a  different  species  of  genus 
homo  from  the  average  young  man  of  to-day.  He 
saw  something  ridiculous  in  the  cool  manner  in 
which  his  friend  had  surrendered  his  sweetheart; 
but  it  was  a  sacred  promise  and  must  not  be  broken. 

"I  don't  think  I  would  have  done  so,  John," 
he  finally  remarked. 

"Do  you  count  friendship  for  naught?  " 

"  No;  but  you  go  farther  than  I  would,  even  for 
a  friend.  There  are  bounds  at  even  which  friend 
ship  must  call  a  halt." 

There  are  some  sympathetic  natures  whose  own 
woes  are  swallowed  up  in  the  misery  of  others. 
Mathew  was  one  of  that  class,  and  for  some  time 
he  thought  more  of  John  Alden's  hopeless  love 
than  of  his  own  affairs. 

It  was  several  days  before  he  again  met  Alice. 
She  seemed  to  avoid  him,  and  he,  as  if  affrighted 


THE  SKELETON  IN   THE   CLOSET.  147 

at  his  own  proposal,  kept  aloof  from  her.  When 
they  met  it  was  by  accident. 

There  was  a  world  of  pleasure  mingled  with  a 
universe  of  woe  in  that  meeting.  The  sight  of  her 
vividly  recalled  to  his  mind  the  triumphant  leer 
on  the  face  of  Francis  Billington,  along  with  his 
warning: 

"  Her  mother  was  White  when  a  maid,  is  still 
White.  Was  she  ever  married?" 

"Alice,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  as  he  went  to 
her  side  and  sat  down  on  the  mossy  bank  of  the 
brook.  The  mere  breathing  of  that  name  conveyed 
a  world  of  tenderness,  and  yet  she  knew  not  why, 
she  shuddered.  He  sought  to  take  her  hand;  but 
she  gently  withdrew  it. 

"Have  I  offended  you,  Alice?  " 

"No." 

"I  wanted  to  see  you." 

After  a  moment's  silence,  during  which  the 
roguish  eyes  sought  the  little  stream,  she  an 
swered  : 

"  Why  have  you  kept  away?  " 

"I  did  not  know  that  I  would  be  welcome." 

"Mathew,  you  know  you  are  always  welcome." 

Then  followed  a  long  silence.  A  great  struggle 
was  going  on  in  Mathew 's  breast.  Should  he  speak 
out  at  once  and  tell  her  what  Billington  had  said 
and  at  what  he  had  hinted?  No,  he  could  not  do 


148  THE   PILGRIMS. 

that.  It  might  cause  her  useless  grief,  annoyance 
and  humiliation.  After  a  few  moments  he  asked : 

"Alice,  do  you  know  Francis  Billington?  " 

She  started  as  suddenly,  as  if  a  bombshell  had 
exploded  at  her  feet,  while  her  face  turned  deathly 
pale,  and  she  feebly  answered: 

"Y-y-yes." 

"Did  you  know  him  in  London?  " 

"I  have  seen  him." 

"Where?" 

"At  mother's  house.  I  was  never  intimate  with 
him,  because  I  never  liked  him." 

"Does  your  mother  know  him?  " 

"Yes." 

She  betrayed  such  an  aversion  to  the  subject, 
that  Mathew  was  constrained  to  change  it.  He 
found  the  dread  and  suspicion,  which,  like  an  op 
pressive  weight,  had  hung  over  his  spirit,  diminish 
ing;  but,  brave  as  he  was  he  had  not  the  courage 
to  advance  any  further  in  that  direction.  There 
was  a  grinning  skeleton  in  the  closet,  and  he  dared 
not  open  the  door.  After  a  long  silence  he 
asked: 

"Alice,  did  you  tell  your  mother  of  our  be 
trothal?" 

"I  have  had  no  opportunity,"  she  answered 
with  a  sigh. 

"Why?" 


THE  SKELETON  IN  THE   CLOSET.  149 

"She  has  been  so  busy  with  other  matters;  but 
why  need  we  haste?  " 

"Why  need  we  delay?  Both  of  us  are  young, 
and  it  is  in  the  spring-time  of  life  that  buds  from 
different  trees  are  engrafted  in  a  parent  stem,  so 
they  may  grow  in  beauty  and  harmony  with  each 
other.  When  two  branches  have  grown  old  and 
set  in  their  ways,  a  union  is  productive  of  more 
misery  than  happiness." 

She  made  no  direct  answer  to  this,  but  with 
some  evasive  response  sought  to  change  the  sub 
ject  to  something  less  embarrassing.  He  was  blunt 
and  direct  for  he  had  been  trained  in  a  school 
where  deceit  was  unknown.  After  a  few  moments 
he  asked: 

"  Alice,  do  you  remember  your  father?  " 

"My  father?" 

"Yes." 

"No." 

"He  died  too  early  for  you  to  remember  him?  " 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  she  had  never  given 
her  father  a  thought.  After  a  moment's  silence — a 
silence  as  awkward  as  it  was  painful — she  answered: 

"I  suppose  he  did." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  your  mother  speak  of  him?  " 

"No." 

There  was  a  strange,  embarrassed  look  in  her 
face,  which  caused  Mathew's  heart  to  sink. 


150  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"Alice,  what  was  your  father's  name?" 

"White,  of  course." 

"His  surname?  " 

"I  don't  know." 

"Have  you  no  portrait  of  him?  " 

"I  have  not." 

"Did  you.  ever  hear  your  mother  speak  of 
him?" 

"No." 

Then  she  fixed  her  great  blue  eyes  on  him  and 
asked : 

"Why  all  these  questions?" 

"I  am  interested  in  you,  Alice,"  he  answered. 
"  And,  being  interested  in  you,  it  is  only  natural 
that  I  should  likewise  be  interested  in  your  father. 
Where  were  you  born?  " 

"My  earliest  recollections  are  of  Plymouth, 
England." 

"How  long  did  you  live  there?  " 

"I  do  not  know.  I  was  quite  young  when  we 
removed  from  there  to  the  Downs,  where  we  lived 
but  a  short  time." 

"Did  you  see  or  hear  anything  of  your  father?" 

"No;  mother  was  with  me  all  the  time,  save 
when  I  remained  a  few  weeks  or  months  with  my 
uncle  William  White." 

"Was  your  uncle  William  White  always  living 
near  you?  " 


THE   SKELETON  IN   THE   CLOSET.          151 

"Not  all  the  time;  but  I  believe  he  was  most  of 
the  time." 

"  When  did  you  go  to  Lincolnshire  on  the 
Humber  where  I  first  met  you?  " 

"I  was  but  six  years  old." 

The  girl's  answers  were  all  frank,  free,  and  hon 
est.  There  was  no  attempt  to  evade  his  questions. 
Her  very  look  of  innocence  seemed  to  defy  investi 
gation. 

"Alice,  when  did  you  first  see  Francis  Bil- 
lington?" 

"I  remember  him  in  Plymouth." 

"Was  he  a  friend  of  your  mother?  " 

"No.  On  the  contrary,  his  presence  always 
seemed  to  distress  her,"  she  answered. 

"Why  should  it?" 

"Alas,  I  know  not,"  she  answered,  tears  start 
ing  to  her  eyes.  "He  is  a  mystery  I  cannot 
fathom." 

"Have  you  asked  your  mother  to  explain  it?  " 

"I  have;  but  I  learned  nothing  save  that  she 
fears  and  hates  him." 

Alice  was  now  weeping,  and  Mathew  questioned 
her  no  more  about  family  secrets. 

"Don't  think  I  care  aught  for  your  ancestry, 
Alice,"  he  said.  "God  has  intended  us  for  each 
other,  and  I  would  wed  you,  even  though  a  veil  of 
mystery  ten  times  heavier  hung  o'er  the  past. 


152  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Think  no  more  of  Billington  and  mystery,  but 
name  at  once  our  wedding  day." 

"Not  now,"  she  answered. 

"Why  not?  You  say  you  love  me;  why  longer 
delay?  " 

"Not  now,  not  now." 

She  rose  and,  wiping  away  the  tears  which 
trickled  down  her  cheeks,  started  home.  Mathew 
accompanied  her  to  the  door  of  her  mother's  cot 
tage,  and  then  returned  to  Mr.  Brewster's. 

A  pair  of  grayish,  basilisk  eyes  glared  at  the 
young  couple  from  a  thicket  as  they  walked  to  the 
cabin,  and  a  hoarse  voice  hissed: 

"Revenge  is  sweet!  " 

It  was  Billington.  Satan  beheld  not  the  happi 
ness  of  Adam  and  Eve  with  more  devilish  envy, 
than  he  noted  the  love  of  Mathew  and  Alice. 

The  mother  was  not  at  home  when  Alice  en 
tered.  She  had  gone  to  visit  a  sick  neighbor  and 
did  not  return  until  the  industrious  daughter  had 
spread  the  snowy  cloth  and  prepared  the  evening 
meal.  Supper  was  dispatched  in  silence,  and  when 
the  table  was  cleared  away,  Alice  turned  to  her 
mother  and  asked: 

"Mother,  who  who  was  my  father?  " 

Sarah  White  fixed  her  eyes  on  her  daughter  and 
gasped : 

"Who  put  that  into  your  head?  " 


THE   SKELETON  IN   THE    CLOSET.  153 

"I  am  no  longer  a  child,  but  a  woman.  I  have 
a  right  to  know  something  of  my  father." 

"Do  not  mention  the  subject  now,  Alice." 

"But  I  must,  mother." 

"No — no — not  now.  Wait  until  some  other 
time;  not  now." 

"The  time  has  come.  You  will  wrong  your 
daughter  by  denying  her  the  knowledge  she 
craves." 

"Why,  child,  why?  "  and  the  brilliancy  of  Mrs. 
White's  eyes  startled  and  almost  alarmed  Alice. 
She  spoke  quickly,  and  her  hot  breath  came  in 
gasps,  while  her  whole  frame  trembled  with  emo 
tion. 

"Mother,  I  must  know.  An  honest  man  hath 
won  my  heart  and  now  asks  my  hand.  Your 
name  is  White.  Your  brother  William  was  named 
White,  you  were  White  when  a  maid — you  are 
still  White.  Who  was  my  father?  Did  I  ever 
have  a  father?  " 

"Yes." 

"Tell  me  all." 

"Never!  " 

Alice  shrank  from  the  firm,  almost  fierce  glance 
into  a  further  corner,  and  for  a  moment  cowered 
beneath  her  great  flashing  eyes. 

"Mother!  mother!"  she  murmured.  "Are  you 
mad?  are  you  mad?  An  honest  man  hath  asked 


154  THE   PILGRIMS. 

my  hand.  Can  I  give  him  a  nameless  bride? 
Who  am  I?  What  am  I?  Mother,  what  was  my 
father's  name?  " 

"  Hush !  mention  not  his  name.      It  is  accursed ! " 

"But  I  must  know,"  she  cried  in  her  despair. 

Falling  on  her  knees,  the  mother  raised  her 
hands  imploringly  to  Heaven  and,  with  heart 
overflowing  with  anguish,  cried: 

"Alice,  Alice,  don't  tear  the  veil  from  that 
hideous  secret!  Spare  me,  oh  save  me,  and  spare 
yourself,  or  you  will  bring  upon  your  own  head 
the  doom  which  I  have  so  long  prayed  might  be 
averted!  " 

Alice  uttered  a  shriek  and,  staggering  across 
the  floor,  fell  in  a  swoon.  As  her  mother  raised 
her  in  her  arms,  a  hand  tore  away  the  paper  from 
the  window,  an  ugly  head  looked  in,  and  a  hoarse 
voice  muttered: 

"The  skeleton  in  the  closet.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha! 
hear  its  bones  rattle!  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MATHEW    MEETS   AN   OLD    FRIEND. 

Friendship,  like  love,  is  but  a  name, 
Unless  to  one  you  stint  the  flame. 
The  child  whom  many  fathers  share, 
Hath  seldom  known  a  father's  care. 
'Tis  thus  in  friendship ;  who  depend 
On  many,  rarely  find  a  friend. 

—GAY. 

THE  various  nations  which  still  pour  their  emi 
gration  into  the  new  world  had  already  begun  to 
move  that  restless  tide  across  the  sea.  French, 
Dutch,  German,  Scandinavian,  Pole  and  Russian 
heard  of  the  wonders  across  the  ocean,  and  all 
alike  were  anxious  to  press  forward  into  this  new 
world  and  behold  its  wonders.  Nations  began  to 
pride  themselves  on  their  colonies  in  the  new  con 
tinent.  Scheming  monarchs  and  ambitious  nobles 
laid  many  plans  for  extending  their  power;  but 
to  the  poor  and  oppressed,  America  was  ever  a 
land  of  freedom. 

The  Dutch,  having  founded  the  New  Netherland 
and  the  city  of  New  Amsterdam  (now  New  York), 
155 


156  THE   PILGRIMS. 

began  with  resistless  vigor  pushing  their  explora 
tions  and  traffic  in  every  direction.  They  even 
went  as  far  as  Narragansett  and  Cape  Cod  Bays  in 
search  of  fur-bearing  animals.  The  growling  of 
the  English  monarch  and  the  threats  of  his  officials 
seemed  to  have  little  effect  on  the  Hollander,  who 
smoked  his  pipe  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  and 
pushed  out  in  any  direction  where  beaver  or  otter 
might  be  found. 

Captain  Block,  who  built  the  first  log  cabin  on 
Manhattan  Island,  had  discovered  the  Connecticut 
River  and  named  it  Fresh  Water,  and  as  he  had 
looked  into  the  Narragansett  Bay,  the  Dutch  felt 
that  they  had  a  legal  claim  upon  those  regions 
according  to  the  English  doctrine  of  the  right  of 
discovery.  In  1623,  three  years  after  the  landing 
of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  at  Plymouth  Eock,  the 
Dutch  West  India  Company  took  possession  of  all 
the  lands  drained  by  the  Connecticut  River  in  the 
name  of  the  company  and  of  the  States-General  of 
Holland. 

For  a  while  a  peaceful  and  profitable  trade  was 
carried  on  with  the  natives  of  the  Connecticut 
Valley  by  the  Dutch,  and  this  might  have  con 
tinued  had  not  the  latter  seized  one  of  their  chiefs 
and  demanded  a  heavy  reward  for  his  release. 
The  savages  threatened  the  Dutch  with  vengeance, 
and  they,  becoming  alarmed,  built  a  fort  for 


MATHEW   MEETS    AN   OLD    FRIEND.         157 

their  protection  near  the  present  city  of  Hartford 
at  a  point  called  "Dutch  Point."  For  a  time  the 
whites  and  red  men  threatened  each  other  with 
extermination;  but  at  last  the  Indians  were  paci 
fied,  and  at  their  request  the  Dutch  abandoned 
the  fort. 

A  friendly  intercourse  opened  up  between  the 
Dutch  at  Manhattan  and  the  Puritans  at  New  Plym 
outh.  It  was  natural  that  such  an  intercourse 
would  be  friendly,  for  many  of  the  emigrants  to 
the  New  Netherland  had  been  personal  acquaint 
ances  and  friends  of  the  Pilgrims  while  at  Leyden, 
and  they  carried  with  them  that  friendly  feeling 
across  the  ocean.  Early  in  1 627,  Isaac  de  Rasi  cries, 
secretary  of  the  colony  of  New  Netherland,  by 
order  of  Governor  Minuit,  wrote  a  letter  to  Gov 
ernor  Bradford  of  Plymouth,  officially  informing 
him  of  the  founding  of  a  settlement  and  province 
on  the  Mauritius  or  Hudson's  River,  and  assuring 
him  that  the  Hollanders  wished  to  cultivate  friendly 
and  commercial  relations  with  the  Pilgrims.  Brad 
ford  returned  these  friendly  greetings  and  well 
wishes;  but  in  his  reply  he  warned  the  Dutch  not 
to  occupy  or  trade  in  the  country  north  of  the 
fortieth  degree  of  latitude,  as  that  region  was 
claimed  by  the  council  of  New  England.  He  ex 
pressed  a  wish  to  maintain  friendly  relations  with 
the  New  Netherland,  and  proposed  not  to  molest 


158  THE  PILGRIMS. 

the  Dutch,  provided  they  refrained  from  trading 
with  the  natives  on  the  waters  to  the  very  doors  of 
the  English.  Minuit  maintained  that  the  Dutch 
had  a  right  to  traffic  with  the  Narragansetts  as  they 
had  done  for  years. 

"  As  the  English  claim  authority  under  the  king 
of  England,"  he  argued,  "so  we  derive  ours  from 
the  States-General  in  Holland."  Bradford  was 
in  no  condition  to  contend  with  the  Dutch,  for  his 
feeble  colony  could  not  have  resisted  their  power. 
He  wrote  to  the  Council  for  New  England  stating 
the  situation,  and  concluded  with: 

"  For  strength  of  men  and  fortifications,  they 
far  excel  us  in  all  this  land." 

The  governor  of  New  Plymouth  made  no  an 
swer  to  Minuit' s  letter,  and  the  latter,  grown 
impatient  with  delay,  sent  a  messenger  to  New 
Plymouth  to  invite  Governor  Bradford  to  send 
a  deputy  to  Manhattan  to  confer  orally  with  the 
authorities  there.  The  messenger  took  with  him  a 
"rundlet  of  sugar  and  two  Holland  cheeses"  as  a 
present  for  Bradford,  who  generously  entertained 
him.  It  was  agreed  in  that  conference  that  a  com 
mission  should  be  sent  to  New  Plymouth  to  con 
fer  upon  all  matters  of  intercourse. 

Meanwhile,  affairs  at  the  colony  had  gone  on 
without  much  change.  Francis  Billington  showed 
his  evil  nature  more  every  day.  In  the  year  1621, 


MATHEW  MEETS   AN  OLD   FRIEND.        159 

as  Captain  Miles  Standish  was  training  a  company 
of  Puritan  soldiers,  preparatory  to  an  expedition 
into  the  forest,  Billington  displayed  a  spirit  of 
insubordination,  quite  at  variance  with  the  captain's 
ideas  of  military  discipline.  Standish  repeated  his 
command. 

"I  will  not  obey,"  declared  Billington,  and  he 
walked  from  the  ranks  and  sat  down  upon  a  log. 

"Francis  Billington,  take  your  place  in  the 
ranks,"  commanded  the  captain. 

"I  will  not,"  Billington  defiantly  cried,  and 
gave  vent  to  the  most  opprobrious  language. 

Captain  Standish  took  a  step  toward  him,  his 
face  flaming  with  rage.  The  rebel  started  to  his 
feet  and,  laying  his  hand  on  his  musket,  cried: 

"  I  warn  you,  come  no  nearer,  lest  I  send  a  bul 
let  through  you!  " 

The  match  in  his  gun  was  not  lighted,  or  no 
doubt  he  would  have  carried  out  his  threat;  but 
even  had  the  match  been  lighted,  Miles  Standish 
would  not  have  hesitated.  Like  a  tiger,  he  leaped 
at  the  malcontent  and  seized  him  by  the  throat. 

Billington  was  a  powerful  man  and  struggled  to 
free  himself.  Mathew  Stevens  came  to  the  aid  of 
Captain  Standish,  and  they  quickly  bound  the 
brawling  fellow.  He  was  "convicted  before  the 
whole  company  for  his  contempt  of  Captain  Stan- 
dish's  lawful  command  with  opprobrious  speeches; 


160  THE   PILGRIMS. 

for  which  he  was  adjudged  to  have  his  neck  and 
heels  tied  together;  but,  upon  humbling  himself 
and  craving  pardon,  and  it  being  the  first  offence, 
he  was  forgiven."  Though  Billington  was  saved 
from  punishment,  he  never  forgave  either  Stand ish 
or  Stevens.  For  revenge  on  Mathew  Stevens,  he 
had  a  weapon  in  the  mysterious  power  he  wielded 
over  the  mother  of  Alice. 

"They  never  shall  wed,"  Billington  declared. 

Mathew  noted  a  great  change  in  Alice.  They 
met  less  frequently,  and  she  seemed  to  avoid  him. 
He  mentioned  their  betrothal  one  day,  and  urged 
her  to  fix  the  day  for  their  wedding. 

"No,  no;  we  must  wait,"  she  sighed.  "I  can 
not  consent  to  be  your  bride  while  a  mystery  hangs 
over  me." 

Years  glided  slowly  by,  the  seasons  came  and 
passed,  and  day  by  day  they  approached  nearer  to 
the  shores  of  that  great  eternity.  They  might  have 
wed  and  lived  happily,  had  she  not  been  too  proud 
to  bring  to  the  altar  the  skeleton  of  some  dead  secret. 

Mathew  received  letters  from  Holland  and  friends 
in  England.  Through  them  he  learned  that  Hans 
Van  Brunt  had  left  for  New  Netherland  to  build 
up  a  home  for  himself  and  the  girl  he  loved. 
When  Minuit's  messenger  came  to  Plymouth  to  con 
fer  with  Governor  Bradford,  he  brought  a  letter 
from  Hans  at  New  Amsterdam.  Hans  declared: 


MATHEW  MEETS   AN   OLD    FRIEND.         161 

"We  have  the  most  goodly  country  I  have  ever  seen. 
Come  and  live  with  us,  and  you  shall  have  all  the  land 
you  want,  and  you  can  bring  over  Honora  Van  Buren, 
who  smiles  upon  you  still,  from  Leyden,  to  be  your  wife. 
Katharine  will  soon  come  to  America,  and  it  would  be  a 
joy  to  have  Honora  come  with  her." 

Mathew  siglied.  The  prospective  happiness  of 
his  friend  cast  a  deeper  gloom  over  himself,  for  he 
despaired  of  wedding  the  one  he  loved,  and  had 
resolved  to  pass  his  life  alone.  When  he  met 
Alice,  which  was  seldom,  the  meetings  were  pro 
ductive  of  more  pain  than  pleasure.  Though  he 
did  all  in  his  power  to  make  her  life  happy,  he 
avoided  her,  and  she  avoided  him.  Every  Sab 
bath  they  met  at  public  worship,  and  frequently 
knelt  side  by  side  in  prayer.  On  such  holy  occa 
sions  they  sometimes  exchanged  glances  of  fond 
ness  and  regret.  Mathew  was  still  Sarah  White's 
best  friend.  He  tilled  her  corn  and  planted  her 
wheat;  he  harvested  her  grain,  and  prepared  her 
fuel.  This  was  no  easy  task,  for,  as  the  colony 
improved,  the  forest  receded,  until  wood  had  to  be 
brought  a  long  distance. 

The  year  1627  came  with  very  little  change  to 
the  colony.  King  Charles  I.  had  been  two  years  on 
the  throne  of  England ;  but  that  had  no  effect  on 
the  Pilgrims.  Already  they  had  begun  to  dream 
of  freedom  and  future  greatness.  The  early  au 
tumn  brought  golden  grain  and  smiling  prosperity 
11 


162  THE  PILGRIMS. 

to  them.  Hundreds  of  people  had  emigrated  to 
America  to  join  their  brothers  who  had  gone  before. 
The  village  had  grown,  and  other  plantations  been 
formed.  Mathew  was  returning  from  his  labors 
in  the  field  with  heavy  heart,  although  the  birds 
sang  gayly,  and  the  abundant  harvest  should  have 
made  all  hearts  glad.  He  paused  beneath  a  great 
oak  tree  and,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his 
face,  heaved  a  sigh  as  he  gazed  toward  the  home 
of  Alice. 

"Is  it  never  to  be?  "  he  thought. 

Suddenly  upon  the  evening  air  came  a  blast  of 
trumpets  from  the  shore.  Naturally,  he  was  filled 
with  curiosity  to  know  whence  issued  the  sound  of 
those  trumpets,  and  he  saw  a  band  of  men,  quaintly 
dressed  with  short  breeches,  wide-topped  boots,  or 
shoes  with  buckles,  wearing  broad-brimmed  hats 
and  short  cloaks.  It  was  De  Rasi cries'  commis 
sion,  which  had  arrived  with  a  bark  laden  with 
wampum,  and  other  things  for  traffic.  Landing, 
with  De  Rasieries  at  their  head,  they  awoke  the 
sleeping  echoes  of  the  forest  with  the  noise  of 
trumpets. 

At  this,  moment,  one  of  the  Pilgrims  gave  utter 
ance  to  a  cry: 

"The  Dutch  have  come!  The  Dutch  have 
come!  " 

Governor  Bradford  and  Captain  Miles  Standish 


MATHEW  MEETS   AN  OLD   FRIEND.        163 

made  all  preparations  possible  on  so  short  a  notice 
for  the  reception  of  the  commissioners  from  New 
Amsterdam.  With  braying  trumpets  and  loud 
shouts,  the  visitors  entered  New  Plymouth  and 
went  direct  to  the  governor's  house.  Suddenly, 
despite  all  pomp  and  ceremony  which  both  parties 
sought  to  maintain,  a  young  Dutchman  dashed 
from  the  ranks  of  his  countrymen  and  ran  to  greet 
a  young  Englishman,  who  stood  at  one  side  of  the 
path  watching  the  procession. 

"Mathew!" 

"Hans!" 

All  efforts  to  get  Hans  back  into  the  line  of 
march  were  unavailing.  The  friends,  separated  so 
long,  were  clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  and  they 
little  heeded  any  further  ceremony.  Mathew  took 
Hans  home  with  him,  for  they  wished  to  be  alone, 
as  they  had  so  much  to  talk  about.  As  soon  as 
they  were  safely  ensconced  in  Mathew's  small  room, 
seated  side  by  side  on  the  rude  bench  which 
adorned  the  house  of  the  Pilgrim,  Mathew  asked: 

"  How  do  you  like  America?  " 

"  It  is  the  most  goodly  country  I  ever  knew, 
and  I  have  been  in  Holland,  France  and  England." 

"Is  Katharine  yet  in  New  Amsterdam?" 

"No;  yet  she  will  come,"  Hans  answered. 
"  Why  will  you  not  come  and  live  in  our  country?  " 

"I  have  made  my  home  here  so  long,  that  it 


164  THE  -PILGRIMS. 

would  grieve  my  heart  to  leave  it  now,"  Mathew 
answered  with  a  sigh. 

"  We  have  many  English  among  us,"  said  Hans. 
"  There  is  one  I  now  remember,  who  was  persecuted 
on  account  of  his  religion,  for  he  was  a  Catholic. 
He  could  not  live  in  England  any  more  than  a 
Puritan." 

"  Where  is  he  now?  " 

"He  went  to  Lord  Baltimore's  colony  in  Mary 
land,  where  he  belongs." 

"  What  was  his  name?  " 

"WilliamKoby." 

"I  never  knew  him,"  Mathew  said. 

"  No ;  he  never  went  to  Leyden,  though  I  believe 
he  was  in  Rotterdam.  I  never  saw  him  until  we 
met  at  New  Amsterdam."  Then  Hans  went  on 
talking  of  the  Catholic,  whom  he  described  as  a 
man  who  never  smiled  and  would  not  speak  of  his 
past  life.  So  deeply  did  the  young  Hollander 
impress  the  strange  character  of  the  man  upon 
Mathew,  that  he  could  not  eradicate  the  recollec 
tion  of  him  from  his  mind. 

The  commissioners  were  hospitably  entertained 
for  several  days  at  the  table  of  the  governor,  where 
sat  Elder  Brewstcr,  Mathew  Stevens,  Miles  Stan- 
dish,  Edward  Winslow,  Dr.  Fuller  and  many  other 
passengers  of  the  Mayflower.  When  the  Sabbath 
came,  the  commissioners  were  invited  to  attend 


MATHEW   MEETS   AN   OLD   FRIEND.         165 

public  worship,  which  they  did.  Mathew  and 
Hans,  who  had  been  inseparable  since  the  arrival  of 
the  latter,  marched  to  church  arm  in  arm,  and 
sat  side  by  side  during  the  service.  De  Rasieries 
gave  a  vivid  description  of  the  worship  of  the 
Puritans  in  a  letter,  from  which  we  quote  the 
following: 

"  They  assemble  by  beat  of  the  drum,  each  with  his 
musket  or  fire-lock,  in  front  of  the  captain's  door.  They 
have  their  cloaks  on  and  place  themselves  in  order,  three 
abreast,  and  are  led  by  a  sergeant  without  beat  of  drum. 
Behind  comes  the  governor  in  a  long  robe.  Beside  him, 
on  the  right  hand,  comes  the  preacher,  with  his  cloak  on ; 
on  the  left  hand,  the  captain,  with  his  side-arms  and  his 
cloak  on  and  with  a  small  cane  in  his  hand.  And  so  they 
march  in  good  order,  and  each  sets  his  arms  down  near 
him.  Thus  they  are  constantly  on  their  guard,  night  and 
day,  for  fear  of  the  Indians,  whose  anger  they  have  ex 
cited." 

In  another  letter,  the  secretary  gives  the  follow 
ing  graphic  description  of  New  Plymouth: 

"It  lies  on  a  slope.  The  houses  are  constructed  of  hewn 
planks,  with  gardens  also  inclosed  behind  and  at  the  sides 
with  hewn  timber  ;  so  that  their  houses  and  court  yards 
are  arranged  in  very  good  order,  with  a  stockade  against 
sudden  attack.  At  the  ends  of  the  streets  are  three  wooden 
gates.  In  the  centre,  on  the  cross  street,  stands  the  gov 
ernor's  house,  before  which  is  a  square  inclosure,  upon 
which  four  swivels  are  mounted,  so  as  to  flank  along  the 
streets.  Upon  the  hill  they  have  a  large  square  house 
with  a  flat  roof,  made  of  thick  sawn  plank  stayed  with 


166  THE   PILGRIMS. 

oak  beams ;  upon  the  top  of  which  they  have  six  cannon, 
which  shoot  balls  of  four  or  five  pounds  weight,  and  com 
mand  the  surrounding  country.  The  lower  part  they  use 
for  their  church,  where  they  preach  on  Sunday  and  the 
usual  holidays. " 

Such  was  the  capital  of  the  English  colony,  only 
six  years  after  the  Pilgrims  had  landed  from  the 
Mayflower.  Puritanic  honesty,  industry  and  love 
of  freedom  had  already  stamped  its  impress  on  the 
ancestors  of  a  future  nation.  When  compared  with 
other  colonies,  which,  like  a  flickering  candle,  dwin 
dled  for  years  and  then  went  out,  one  must  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  great  and  good  Creator 
of  the  universe  gave  a  special  blessing  to  those  who 
came  to  build  and  plant  in  His  name.  Only  six 
years  in  the  new  world,  and  the  New  Plymouth 
colony  had  convinced  the  most  skeptical  that  it 
had  come  to  stay. 

The  commissioners  from  New  Amsterdam  opened 
a  profitable  trade  between  the  two  settlements, 
which  led  to  the  speedy  planting  of  an  English 
colony  in  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut.  With  a 
keen  eye  to  self-interest,  the  Dutch  advised  the 
Pilgrims  to  leave  their  more  sterile  soil  and  make 
their  home  in  the  beautiful  and  fertile  country  on 
the  banks  of  the  Freshwater  River,  under  the  juris 
diction  of  New  Netherland.  The  fertility  of  that 
region  was  set  forth  in  glowing  terms,  and  the 


MATHEW  MEETS   AN  OLD   FRIEND.         167 

stories  of  the  Dutch  were  confirmed  by  native 
chiefs.  A  Mohegan  sachem,  whose  council  fire 
was  on  the  eastern  banks  of  the  Hudson,  four  years 
later  visited  the  Puritan  governor,  and,  with  self- 
interest  as  strong  as  the  Dutch,  but  rather  more 
artfully  concealed,  urged  the  Pilgrims  to  settle  in 
Connecticut.  As  an  inducement  to  secure  English 
influence,  he  offered  to  give  them  lands  and  an 
annual  tribute  of  corn  and  beaver  skins,  if  they 
would  do  so.  The  main  object  of  the  Mohegan 
chief  was  to  so  plant  a  barrier  between  his  people 
and  the  powerful  Pequods,  whose  seat  was  on  the 
hills  that  stretch  between  New  London  and  Ston- 
ington.  The  selfish  policy  of  both  parties  was 
readily  seen  by  the  Puritans,  and  they  resolved  not 
to  be  used  as  cat's  paws  by  either  the  Dutch  or 
the  Indians. 

Stories  of  "the  pleasant  meadows  "  along  the 
Connecticut  Eiver  excited  the  attention  of  the 
English,  so  that,  in  1632,  Edward  Winslow  vis 
ited  that  region.  The  country  was,  in  truth,  so 
delightful,  that  he  confirmed  all  the  Dutch  traders 
and  embassadors  as  well  as  the  Indian  chiefs  had 
said  about  it.  The  fame  of  the  Connecticut  valley 
had  already  reached  old  England,  and,  in  1630, 
two  years  before  Winslow's  visit,  the  council  for 
New  England  had  granted  the  soil  of  that  region 
to  the  Earl  of  Warwick.  That  nobleman  conveyed 


168  THE   PILGRIMS. 

his  chartered  rights  to  the  domain  to  other  parties, 
among  them  Lords  Say,  Seal,  Brook,  Mr.  Sal  ton  - 
stall  and  others,  in  1632.  In  this  conveyance  the 
territory  was  denned  as  extending  "in  a  certain 
width  throughout  the  main  lands  there,  from  the 
western  ocean  to  the  South  Sea,"  or  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  These  parties  did  not  take 
immediate  steps  to  colonize  the  Connecticut  valley, 
and  the  ever  vigilant  Dutch  got  there  before 
them.  The  Dutch  purchased  the  territory  of  the 
rightful  owners,  the  Indians,  and  Commissioner 
Van  Curler  completed  the  redoubt  already  begun  on 
Dutch  Point,  named  it  Fort  Good  Hope,  and  armed 
it  with  cannon. 

Governor  Winthrop  was  at  Boston  and  Governor 
Bradford,  Edward  "Winslow  and  Mathew  Stevens 
went  to  him  with  a  proposal  for  an  alliance  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  immediate  possession  of  the  Con 
necticut  Valley.  Although  Winthrop  refused  to 
join  them  in  such  an  enterprise,  he  thought  it  nec 
essary,  in  some  formal  way,  to  assert  promptly  and 
firmly  the  jurisdiction  of  the  English  over  the  now 
coveted  region.  lie  sent  his  bark  the  Blessing  of 
the  Bay  on  a  trading  voyage  along  Long  Island 
Sound,  her  captain  bearing  a  message  to  Manhattan 
declaring  that  the  "  King  of  England  had  granted 
the  river  and  the  country  of  the  Connecticut  to  his 
own  subjects,  and  that  the  Dutch  must  forbear  to 


MATHEW   MEETS    AN   OLD    FRIEND.         169 

build  there."  The  messenger  and  his  companions 
were  kindly  received  by  Van  Twiller,  Minuit's 
successor,  who,  in  a  courteous  letter  to  Winthrop, 
requested  him  to  defer  his  pretence  or  claim  to 
Connecticut,  until  their  respective  governments 
should  agree  upon  the  limit  of  the  colonies.  At 
the  same  time,  Van  Twiller  informed  Winthrop 
that  the  Dutch  had  already  purchased  the  soil  and 
"set  up  a  house  with  intent  to  plant." 

In  romance  as  in  history,  an  author  is  sometimes 
compelled  to  push  one  thread  of  his  fabric  ahead  of 
the  others,  for  it  is  impossible  to  at  all  times  keep 
the  incidents  even,  especially  when  there  are  a 
great  variety  of  characters  to  be  woven  into  them. 
Having  sufficiently  advanced,  for  the  present,  the 
thread  of  Dutch  and  English  diplomacy,  we  will 
now  return  to  the  first  Dutch  commission  at  Plym 
outh. 

Hans  Van  Brunt  had  come  to  New  Plymouth  in 
the  hope  that  the  Pilgrims  could  be  induced  to  take 
up  their  abode  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Dutch. 
When  they  refused,  and  Mathew  informed  him  of 
his  determination  to  remain  with  them,  the  great 
hearted  Dutchman  felt  that  his  mission  was  a  failure. 

While  Mathew  and  Van  Brunt  were  together, 
Billington  played  the  part  of  a  spy.  Whether 
alone  in  the  wood  or  at  the  home  of  Mathew,  Bil 
lington  was  ever  near  listening  to  what  they  said. 


170  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Having  it  in  his  heart  to  injure  Mathew,  Billington 
was  getting  at  his  secrets.  On  the  evening  before 
the  departure  of  De  Rasieries'  commissioners  from 
New  Plymouth,  Billington,  meeting  Hans  alone, 
said: 

"Come  with  me!  " 

"What  would  you  with  me?"  asked  the  be 
wildered  Dutchman. 

"I  would  talk  with  ye." 

Hans  could  see  nothing  wrong  in  conversing 
with  the  Englishman,  so  he  followed  him  to  his 
miserable  house.  When  they  entered,  Billington 
made  sure  that  they  were  alone  and,  carefully 
closing  the  door,  bade  the  Hollander  be  seated. 

"Know  ye  a  man  named  Roby?  "  he  asked. 

Hans  fixed  his  great  blue  eyes  on  him,  and  then, 
in  his  Dutch  innocence  and  simplicity,  answered: 

"Yes." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Are  ye  quite  sure  he  is  not  dead?  " 

"I  know  he  lives.     He  may  be  in  Maryland." 

Billington  cast  a  frightened  glance  about,  as  if 
half  expecting  to  see  a  ghost  arise  out  of  the  floor, 
and  asked: 

"When  did  ye  last  see  him?  " 

"Less  than  half  a  year  ago." 

"Then  he  is  not  dead,"  said  Billington  with  a 


MATHEW  MEETS   AN  OLD   FRIEND.         171 

shudder.  Rising  from  his  seat,  he  paced  the  nar 
row  apartment  for  a  moment,  and  then,  resuming 
the  stool,  he  asked: 

"Where  did  he  go?" 

"I  know  not;  perchance  to  Maryland." 

"And  know  ye  not  where  he  can  be  found?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do  not.  He  was  at  New  Amsterdam, 
but  went  away  less  than  half  a  year  ago." 

Billington  seemed  not  to  gain  the  information  he 
sought,  and  shortly  after  his  last  question  he  dis 
missed  Hans.  Left  alone  in  his  miserable  hut,  he 
sat  with  his  head  bowed  in  his  hands,  his  brow 
contracted,  and  as  a  shudder  ran  through  his  frame, 
he  hissed  in  a  whisper: 

"He  lives!  he  lives!  and  I  am  not  safe.  No, 
no;  while  he  lives  I  am  not  safe.  An  ill  wind 
might  at  any  day  blow  him  this  way;  then  all  is 
lost."  His  face  was  of  a  deathly  color,  and  he 
trembled  as  if  he  had  seen  a  spectre. 

Next  day  Hans  and  Mathew  took  a  friendly 
farewell  of  each  other,  and  the  young  Dutchman 
left  with  the  commissioners  for  New  Amsterdam. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    RIVAL    OF    MILES    STANDISH. 

In  the  old  colony  days,  in  Plymouth,  the  land  of  the  Pil 
grims, 

To  and  fro  in  a  room  of  his  simple  and  primitive  dwelling, 
Clad  in  doublet  and  hose, and  boots  of  Cordovian  leather, 
Strode,  with  martial  air,  Miles  Standish  the  Puritan  Cap 
tain. 

— LONGFELLOW. 

AN  author  enters  on  dangerous  ground  when  lie 
attempts  to  relate  what  has  already  become  a  house 
hold  story.  Who  has  not  heard  the  romance  of 
Miles  Standish,  that  daring,  stern,  gallant  Puritan 
captain?  His  tale  of  love  and  disappointment  has 
been  repeated  at  every  fireside  for  many  genera 
tions,  until  it  is  impossible  to  add  new  interest  to 
the  story.  Yet  a  history  of  the  Pilgrims  would 
not  be  complete  without  it.  Miles  Standish  has 
been  made  the  incarnation  of  many  a  subtly-woven 
fancy ;  yet  it  is  not  all  fancy.  There  are  wonder 
ful  facts  in  connection  with  his  story,  and  from  the 
various  legends  afloat  we  will  attempt  to  winnow 
the  truth. 

Poor  John  Alden's  heart  was  breaking.  He 
172 


THE  RIVAL    OF  MILES   STANDISH.         173 

had  come  with  his  friend  from  old  England,  had 
shared  the  home  of  the  gallant  Miles  Standish  and 
had  mourned  with  him  when  he  laid  his  sweet 
young  wife  Rose  to  rest. 

Away  back  in  old  England,  Alden  had  learned 
to  love  the  fair  Priscilla  Mullins;  but  the  young 
cooper  was  so  timid  and  bashful  that  he  dared  not 
tell  her.  Like  most  bashful  youths,  he  avoided 
the  object  which  was  to  him  the  greatest  attraction. 
Alden's  case  seemed  hopeless.  He  had  promised 
Miles  Standish  to  aid  him  in  winning  the  fair  Pris 
cilla,  and  was  too  honorable  to  betray  his  friend, 
even  to  save  himself  from  perpetual  misery.  As 
he  sighed  in  secret,  he  sometimes  murmured: 

"Priscilla!  fairest  flower  of  all  New  England, 
must  I  give  thee  up  forever?"  Then,  conscience- 
smitten  at  even  so  much  as  breathing  a  regret,  he 
cried:  "Get  thee  hence  behind  rne,  Satan,  I  will 
do  my  duty!  " 

Despite  his  resolution  to  do  his  duty,  he  could 
not  repress  the  wish  that  Heaven  would  interpose 
to  save  him.  Such  a  long  period  had  elapsed  since 
the  captain  told  him  of  his  love  for  Priscilla,  that 
John  Alden  dared  to  hope  that  Miles  had  changed 
his  mind;  but  the  love  within  the  heart  of  the 
gallant  captain  had  not  in  the  least  abated  its  ardor. 
Shortly  after  the  departure  of  the  Dutch  commis 
sioners,  Miles  Standish  said: 


174  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"John,  I  want  you  to-day." 

"You  have  more  letters  to  write,  captain?" 
said  John. 

The  young  cooper  was  the  captain's  amanuensis, 
for  the  comely  young  Puritan  was  the  most  skilful 
penman  in  all  New  England. 

"Yes,"  answered  Captain  Standish. 

"I  will  be  ready  to  serve  you." 

There  was  something  in  the  manner  of  Captain 
Standish,  which  John  Alden  did  not  understand. 
He  shuddered  with  a  vague,  unknown  dread,  just 
as  one  sometimes  shrinks  from  an  evil  which  they 
know  by  instinct  must  befall  them. 

When  alone  in  the  room,  Miles  Standish  said: 

"The  ship  sails  on  the  morrow  for  England. 
Here  are  many  important  documents  to  go. 
Write  letters  to  these  persons  on  the  subjects  I 
have  indicated,"  and  he  held  up  before  the  young 
Puritan  a  list  of  names  and  the  subject  matter  on 
which  they  should  be  addressed.  It  was  an  easy 
task  for  so  skilful  a  penman  as  John  Alden,  and, 
breathing  a  prayer  of  thanks  that  the  communica 
tions  had  no  reference  to  Priscilla,  he  set  about  his 
task  as  if  it  were  a  labor  of  love. 

Captain  Standish  took  up  his  favorite  volume, 
the  campaigns  of  Juli  us  Caesar,  and  read  in  silence. 
Nothing  was  heard  save  the  hurrying  of  the  pen  of 
John  Alden,  hastily  writing  epistles  to  go  by  the 


THE   RIVAL    OF  MILES    STANDISH.          175 

next  ship.  With  mind  and  heart  filled  with  Pris- 
cilla,  every  sentence  began  and  closed  with  her 
name,  until  the  treacherous  pen  began  at  last  to 
disclose  his  secret;  then  he  stopped,  tore  out  the 
sheet  and  quietly  destroyed  it. 

The  story  of  Mathew  Stevens'  hopeless  love 
often  appealed  to  him  in  his  hours  of  bitterest 
anguish,  and  he  asked  himself: 

"Is  my  misery  greater  than  his?  If  he  bears  in 
silence  a  grief  that  must  consume  his  heart,  why 
should  not  I?" 

Recalled  to  his  task  by  the  captain  closing  his 
book,  he  had  once  more  taken  up  his  pen,  when 
Miles  Standish  said: 

"When  you  have  finished  your  work,  I  have 
something  important  to  tell  you.  Be  not  in  haste 
however  so  that  you  slight  anything;  I  can  wait; 
I  shall  not  be  impatient." 

Once  more  John  Alden  felt  his  heart  sink.  In 
tuitively  he  knew  that  dread  announcement  of  love 
was  coming,  and  mentally  ejaculated: 

"Priscilla,  must  I  give  you  up!  " 

But  loyal,  even  unto  death,  he  hastily  finished 
the  last  letter,  and,  folding  it,  pushed  the  papers 
aside  to  give  respectful  attention.  This  was  an  age 
when  people  spoke  in  blank  verse.  It  was  an  age 
of  Shakespeare,  Spencer,  and  Johnson,  when  liter 
ature,  awaking  from  its  long  slumber,  assumed  a 


176  THE  PILGRIMS. 

new  and  hitherto  unknown  vigor.  It  was  an  age 
of  sentiment  as  well  as  rhetoric,  for  what  lover  of 
the  present  would  sacrifice  his  life's  happiness  for 
his  friend?  Aloud,  John  Alden  spoke: 

"I  am  always  ready  to  hear  what  pertains  to 
Miles  Standish." 

The  captain  after  a  short  and  embarrassed  silence 
began : 

"The  Scriptures  say  it  is  not  good  for  man  to 
dwell  alone.  I  have  felt  the  full  force  and  effect 
of  these  words  of  holy  writ.  Since  Rose  Standish 
died  of  famine  and  fever,  my  life  hath  been  a 
dreary  one,  sick  at  heart  beyond  the  healing  of 
friendship.  In  my  loneliness  I  have  turned  my 
eyes  in  all  directions  seeking  one  to  take  the  place 
made  vacant  at  my  hearthstone." 

All  hope  sank  beneath  Alden's  mental  horizon. 
The  dread  hour  had  come.  Priscilla,  his  light, 
life,  hope  and  joy  was  lost.  Like  a  condemned 
criminal,  listening  to  his  death  sentence,  Alden 
waited  for  what  he  knew  would  follow.  Without 
knowing  the  agony  his  words  wrung  from  the  heart 
of  his  young  friend,  Captain  Miles  Standish  went 
on: 

"Oft  in  my  lonely  hours  have  I  turned  my 
thought  to  the  maiden  Priscilla.  She,  alone  of  all 
I  know,  is  most  capable  of  filling  the  place  made 
vacant  in  my  home.  She  is  all  alone  in  the  world 


THE  RIVAL   OF  MILES   STANDI8H.  177 

as  I  am.  I  saw  her  coming  and  going,  now  at  the 
grave  of  the  dead,  and  now  at  the  bed  of  the  dying, 
patient,  courageous  and  strong,  and  to  myself  I 
thought  her  one  of  the  ministering  angels  of  earth. 
I  have  long  cherished  a  love  for  her  which  I  am 
too  cowardly  to  declare.  There  is  no  danger  how 
ever  great  which  Miles  Standish  will  not  defy;  yet, 
when  it  comes  to  affairs  of  love,  he  is  a  coward, 
and  dares  not  speak  the  dictates  of  his  heart;  but 
in  you  I  have  a  friend  noble  and  faithful,  with  a 
tongue  of  silver  to  frame  words  suited  for  such  a 
declaration.  Go  to  Priscilla  Mullins,  and  to  her 
say  that  the  blunt  old  captain,  a  man  of  actions 
rather  than  words,  offers  her  the  heart  and  hand  of 
a  soldier.  You  are  a  scholar  bred,  say  it  all  in 
elegant  language,  such  as  never  dawns  in  the  minds 
of  the  illiterate." 

When  he  had  finished  speaking,  John  Alden 
stood  aghast,  trying  to  conceal  his  anguish  and 
dismay.  Had  his  friend  given  him  his  sword  and 
told  him  to  plunge  it  to  the  hilt  in  his  own  heart, 
the  task  could  not  have  been  performed  with  more 
reluctance;  but  he  had  given  his  word,  and  a  Puri 
tan's  word  was  as  binding  as  his  oath.  So  long 
sat  he  silent  and  motionless,  that  the  captain,  grow 
ing  impatient  at  his  delay,  asked: 

"Have  you  marked  well  all  I  have  said?  " 

"I  have." 
12 


178  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"And  will  you  bear  the  message?  " 

"I  will.  John  Alden's  word  once  given,  he 
cannot  break  it.  I  promised  to  give  you  my  aid ; 
but  then  I  did  not  dream  that  I  was  to  be  an  em- 
bassador." 

"Do  you  shrink  from  the  task?  " 

"  It  is  an  important  one,  and  a  great  responsibil 
ity  rests  upon  me." 

"Yet  you  can  win,  John.  Your  words  are  al 
ways  well  chosen,  and  you  never  err." 

"  In  this  matter  it  would  be  better  if  you  were 
your  own  messenger." 

"I  am  slow  of  speech;  you  must  do  it." 

"Such  a  message;  lam  sure  I  should  mangle 
and  mar  it;  if  you  would  have  it  well  done, 
you  should  do  it  yourself  and  not  leave  it  to 
others." 

Standish  was  not  to  be  turned  from  his  original 
plan.  He  insisted  on  his  friend  being  his  embas- 
sador,  and  John  Alden,  having  consented,  could 
not  back  out. 

With  a  thousand  conflicting  emotions  swaying 
his  tortured  soul,  Alden  set  out  on  his  errand- 
strange  errand  indeed — to  ask  one  whom  he  loved 
more  than  life  to  become  the  wife  of  another;  but 
with  that  firm  and  unswerving  integrity  which 
ever  holds  the  faithful  and  noble  to  the  path  of 
duty,  he  set  forth  on  his  strange  mission. 


THE  RIVAL    OF  MILES    STANDISH.         179 

Out  of  the  village  and  into  the  paths  of  the 
forest,  those  tranquil  woods  where  blue  jays  and 
robins  were  busy  preparing  nests,  and  where  feath 
ered  warblers  made  gladdest  music,  he  strode. 
The  peace  and  happiness  which  reigned  all  about 
him  was  in  strange  contrast  with  the  conflict  raging 
within  his  breast — love  contending  with  friendship, 
and  self  with  generous  impulse. 

"Must  I  relinquish  all?"  he  cried  with  wild 
lamentation. 

Hope,  joy  and  love  were  only  illusions,  bright 
dreams,  fondly  cherished,  but,  alas,  only  dreams. 
He  loved,  waited  and  worshipped  in  silence,  fol 
lowed  with  flying  feet  a  shadow  over  the  wintry 
sea  to  the  desolate  shores  of  New  England.  Oh, 
cruel,  bitter  dreams,  thrice  cruel  and  bitter  the 
illusive  hopes  roused  in  the  fond  breast  to  be 
dashed  to  earth! 

Thus,  with  bitter  feelings,  the  young  Puritan 
strode  forth  through  the  wood  to  the  home  of  the 
one  who  held  his  happiness  and  destiny  in  keeping. 
Journeying  on,  he  saw  through  an  open  space  the 
disk  of  the  ocean,  sailless,  sombre  and  drear.  To 
the  left  was  a  newly-built  house,  and  people  were 
working  in  the  fields.  Drawing  nearer,  he  heard 
the  music  of  the  spinning-wheel,  which  was  accom 
panied  by  the  sweet  voice  of  the  Puritan  maid 
singing  psalms.  The  music  of  the  spinning-wheel 


180  THE   PILGRIMS. 

and  the  cheerful  voice  of  the  worshipper  at  work 
are  no  longer  heard  in  the  land.  The  old-fashioned 
spinning-wheel,  with  all  its  pleasant  memories,  has 
been  relegated  to  the  attic,  where  it  lingers  only  as 
a  curious  relic  of  the  past. 

Priscilla  was  seated  beside  her  wheel,  with  the 
carded  wool  like  a  snow-drift  piled  at  her  knee, 
her  left  hand  feeding  the  singing  spindle,  while 
with  her  right  she  guided  the  motion  of  her  machine. 
Such  was  the  Puritan  girl  of  the  forest,  "making 
the  humble  house  and  modest  apparel  of  homespun 
beautiful  with  her  beauty  and  rich  with  the  wealth 
of  her  being."  Never  did  Priscilla  seem  so  charm 
ing  as  when,  in  her  modest  simplicity,  she  praised 
God  and  plied  her  work.  Overwhelmed  with  de 
spair,  John  Alden  paused  for  a  single  moment  and 
clung  to  the  door  for  support. 

Remembrance  of  his  errand  spurred  him  on, 
and  he  entered. 

"Let  duty  be  done,  though  the  heavens  fall,"  he 
thought,  and  then,  determined  to  deliver  the  mes 
sage,  though  it  rend  his  heart  in  twain,  he  entered 
the  house. 

With  a  smile  that  seemed  born  in  Heaven,  Pris 
cilla  rose  and  welcomed  him  to  her  home,  and, 
taking  his  hat  and  staff,  laid  them  away,  while  she 
brought  such  simple  refreshments  as  the  Puritans 
entertained  their  visitors  with. 


THE   RIVAL    OF  MILES   STANDISH.          181 

"Do  you  feel  lonely,  Priscilla?  "  he  asked,  after 
a  brief  silence. 

"Lonely,  oh,  so  lonely!  "  she  answered  with  a 
sigh. 

Well  might  she  feel  lonely,  for  she  had  been  of 
all  kindred  bereft.  Her  father,  William  Mullins, 
one  of  the  signers  of  the  Mayflower  compact,  had 
early  sickened  and  died,  leaving  her  alone  in  the 
world. 

For  a  moment,  John  Alden  sat  in  embarrassed 
silence,  and  then,  for  the  want  of  something  better, 
remarked : 

"You  have  many  friends,  Priscilla." 

"Many  who  are  dear  to  me,"  she  answered,  tak 
ing  up  a  bundle  of  wool  rolls  and  adjusting  them 
so  they  might  be  most  convenient  for  her  spindle. 

"You  know  Alice  White,  the  maid  of  near  your 
own  age?  "  asked  John. 

"She  is  my  dearest  friend,  and,  like  me,  hath 
had  her  sorrows,  yet  I  am  sure  they  are  different, 
for  there  is  some  strange  mystery  about  her,  which 
I  cannot  fathom." 

"  Why  does  she  not  wed  Mathew?  " 

"She  says  she  will  never  wed." 

"Yet  he  loves  her." 

"So  I  have  thought,  and  I  believe  that  his  love 
is  returned." 

"Did  they  quarrel?" 


182  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"I  know  not,  yet  it  would  seem  so." 

Then  John  Alden,  trembling,  hesitated  on  the 
brink  of  his  strange  mission.  A  little  longer  would 
he  put  off  that  awful  fate.  How  he  dreaded  the 
issue  that  was  to  come. 

"Are  you  satisfied  with  your  New  England 
home?"  he  asked.  To  which  she  answered: 

"  I  have  been  dreaming  all  night  and  thinking 
all  day." 

"  Of  what  do  you  think?  of  what  do  you  dream?" 
he  asked. 

"Of  the  hedge-rows  of  England — they  are  in 
blossom  now,  and  the  country  is  all  like  a  garden. 
I  dream,  I  think  of  lanes  and  fields  and  the  song 
of  the  lark  and  linnet.  I  see  the  village  street  and 
familiar  faces  of  neighbors  come  and  go  as  of  old, 
or  stop  to  gossip  together.  At  the  end  of  the  street 
is  the  village  church,  with  ivy  clinging  to  the  old 
gray  tower,  and  the  quiet  graves  in  the  church 
yard.  The  people  with  whom  I  live  are  kind,  my 
religion  is  dear  to  my  heart,  still  I  grow  sad  and 
long  to  be  once  more  back  among  the  scenes  of  my 
childhood." 

John  listened  in  silence  to  the  maid,  his  gaze 
fixed  on  the  floor.  The  supreme  moment  had 
come.  Duty  stared  him  in  the  face  and  said, 
"Now  do  or  die!  "  In  a  voice  husky  and  trem 
bling,  he  made  answer: 


THE   RIVAL    OF  MILES    STANDISH.          183 

"You  long  to  return  to  England;  indeed,  I  can 
not  blame  you.  Stouter  hearts  have  quailed  in 
these  trying  times.  Yours  is  tender  and  trusting 
and  needs  a  stronger  to  lean  on,  so  I  have  come 
with  an  offer  of  marriage,  made  by  the  truest  man 
in  all  New  England,  Captain  Miles  Standish." 

John  Alden  found  it  impossible  to  embellish  his 
theme ;  for  he  had  to  tear  the  words-  from  his  heart. 
For  a  brief  moment  amazement  sat  enthroned  on 
the  face  of  the  Puritan  maid.  Then,  somewhat 
recovering  her  self-possession,  she  said: 

"If  Captain  Standish  is  so  very  eager  to  wed 
me,  why  does  he  not  come  himself  and  take  the 
trouble  to  woo  me?  If  I  am  not  worth  the  wooing, 
surely  I  arn  not  worth  the  winning." 

John  Alden,  in  his  eagerness  to  prove  the  loyal 
embassador,  for  the  moment  forgot  his  own  love 
and  strove  to  smooth  matters  over  for  his  friend, 
making  them  worse  as  he  advanced: 

"The  captain  is  very  busy  and  has  no  time  for 
such  things  himself,  so  he  has  deputized  me  to 
bear  his  message." 

The  Puritan  maid  did  not  fancy  being  courted 
by  proxy,  and  the  words  of  the  embassador  fell 
harshly  on  her  ear.  Swift  as  flash  she  made 
answer: 

"He  has  no  time  for  such  things,  as  you  call  it, 
before  marriage,  would  he  find  time  after  the  wed- 


184  THE   PILGRIMS. 

ding?  That  is  the  way  wi tli  you  men;  you  do  not 
understand  us.  When  you  have  made  up  your 
mind  which  you  will  reject  and  which  you  will 
choose,  then  you  make  known  your  desire,  and  are 
offended  and  hurt  that  a  woman  does  not  respond 
at  once  to  a  love  of  which  she  never  before  dreamed. 
Is  this  just  or  right?  Surely  a  woman's  affection 
is  not  a  thing  to  be  asked  for  and  had  only  for  the 
asking.  When  one  is  truly  in  love,  he  betrays 
more  by  loving  actions  than  words.  Had  he  but 
waited  awhile,  had  he  only  showed  that  he  loved 
me,  perhaps — who  knows?  at  last  he  might  have 
won  me,  old  and  rough  as  he  is;  but  now  it  can 
never  happen." 

Not  until  John  Alden  found  his  friend's  cause 
failing,  did  he  enter  with  heart  and  zeal  into  the 
conquest.  lie  no  longer  thought  of  himself,  but 
the  anguish  of  a  betrayed  friend.  He  pleaded  in 
words  tender  and  eloquent  the  cause  of  Miles 
Standish,  and  sounded  his  praises  in  the  ears  of  the 
mischievous  maiden,  who  began  at  last  to  enjoy  the 
novel  experience.  At  last,  when  he  paused  after 
an  eloquent  appeal,  Priscilla,  fixing  her  roguish 
eyes  on  the  face  of  the  young  diplomat,  asked: 

"Prythec,  John,  why  do  you  not  speak  for 
yourself?  " 

Like  a  clap  of  thunder  from  a  cloudless  sky  fell 
those  words  on  the  ears  of  John  Alden.  Never 


'  1'KYTIiEE,    JOUN,    WHY   DO   YOU  NOT    SPEAK   FOIl  YOUHSEI.F  '! 


THE   RIVAL    OF   MILES    STANDISH.          185 

was  man  more  supremely  happy;  never  was  man 
plunged  in  deeper  misery.  While  his  'heart  was 
bounding  at  one  moment  with  the  joyous  knowl 
edge  that  he  was  beloved,  at  the  next  he  was  tor 
tured  with  the  pangs  of  a  guilty  eonscience  for 
having  betrayed  a  friend.  He  never  had  a.  clear 
recollection  of  that  interview.  Joy  and  remorse 
were  so  intermingled  in  his  heart  that  his  brain  was 
confused,  and  he  could  scarcely  realize  that  he  was 
not  dreaming. 

"  Fierce  in  his  soul  was  the  struggle  and  tumult  of  passion 

contending ; 
Love  triumphant  and  crowned,  and  friendship  wounded 

and  bleeding." 

How  dared  he  meet  Captain  Miles  Stan  dish  and 
tell  him  all?  So  long  had  the  Puritan  captain 
been  accustomed  to  have  his  will  obeyed,  that  he 
never  thought  for  a  moment  that  Priscilla  Mullins 
would  reject  his  suit.  lie  had  forgotten  it  was 
"leap  ye"ar,  when  English  maids  have  the  privilege 
of  wooing."  He  awaited  with  some  impatience  the 
return  of  his  embassador  from  the  court  of  cupid. 
Anon,  he  saw  him  coining  down  the  path,  with 
provokingly  slow  and  hesitating  tread.  Captain 
Standish,  cleaning  his  fire-lock,  waited  in  patience 
the  arrival  of  John  Alden. 

The  embassador  entered  in  silence.  The  face  of 
Captain  Standish  was  firm,  and  the  scowl  of  war 


186  THE   PILGRIMS. 

was  on  his  forehead.  There  was  a  gathering  of 
men  near  the  church  with  arms,  and  from  Mathew 
Stevens  John  Alden  heard  the  rumor  of  a  threat 
ened  Indian  outbreak.  A  chief,  driven  to  desper 
ation  by  the  act  of  some  men,  not  a  party  of  the 
Pilgrims,  had  sent  as  a  challenge  a  bundle  of  ar 
rows  and  a  serpent's  skin.  The  governor  had  re 
turned  the  skin  of  the  rattlesnake  filled  with 
powder  and  bullets. 

There  was  little  time  for  wooing  now,  yet  Cap 
tain  Standish  awaited  the  report  of  his  embassador 
before  going  forth  to  war. 

"  Well,  what  answer  does  she  make?  "  he  asked, 
when  he  entered. 

Then  John  Alden,  as  if  every  word  had  been 
wrung  in  anguish  from  his  heart,  told  all.  Miles 
Standish  listened  to  the  end,  and  when  he  con 
cluded  with  Priscilla's  words,  "  Prythee,  John, 
why  do  you  not  speak  for  yourself?"  he  leaped 
to  his  feet  with  such  a  sudden  start  as  to  make 
the  armor  he  wore  ring  from  the  shock,  and  in  a 
voice  hoarse  with  rage  cried: 

"John  Alden,  you  have  betrayed  me!  You 
have  betrayed  and  supplanted  your  friend.  Who 
could  blame  me  for  slaying  the  man  who  hath  be 
trayed  me?  You,  who  have  lived  under  my  roof, 
whom  I  cherished  and  loved  as  a  brother;  you, 
who  have  fed  at  my  board  and  drunk  at  my  cup, 


THE  RIVAL   OF  MILES   STANDISH.          187 

to  whose  keeping  I  have  entrusted  my  honor,  my 
thoughts  and  my  sacred  secret.  Oh,  woe  to  the 
name  of  friendship  hereafter!  " 

Having  given  way  to  this  outburst  of  rage,  he 
suddenly  left  the  house  and  hurried  to  the  council 
of  war. 

Alden  sat  like  one  crushed  and  broken  with  a 
guilty  conscience.  Was  it  a  crime  to  love?  Surely 
one  would  think  so  to  behold  his  agony  at  having 
loved  Priscilla.  He  could  not  wholly  free  his  con 
science  from  the  thought  that  he  had  betrayed  his 
friend. 

Miles  Standish  with  his  warriors  went  to  meet 
and  humble  the  savages,  while  John  Alden,  who 
had  never  before  been  left  on  such  expeditions, 
was  ignored.  All  night  he  thought  on  the  future, 
and  at  dawn  his  resolution  was  taken.  A  ship 
sailed  for  England  that  day,  and  he  resolved  to  go 
with  it. 

Hastily  gathering  together  his  few  effects,  he 
\vent  to  the  beach  intending  to  embark.  But  here 
he  met  Priscilla,  who,  by  her  artful  ways  and 
sweet,  encouraging  words,  induced  him  to  change 
his  mind.  Before  many  days  had  elapsed,  John 
Alden  was  the  happiest  man  in  the  colony.  He 
had  spoken  for  himself  and  Priscilla  had  accepted 
his  offer  of  marriage. 

The  wedding  of  John  Alden  and  Priscilla  Mul- 


188  THE   PILGRIMS. 

lins  was  the  first  marriage  in  New  England.  As 
the  bridal  party  was  returning  from  church,  they 
met  Miles  Standish,  Mathew  Stevens  and  their 
warriors  just  come  back  from  the  field  of  victory, 
bearing  the  head  of  the  belligerent  chief  on  a  pole. 
There  was  a  pause,  a  look  of  horror  on  the  part  of 
the  bridal  party  and  one  of  surprise  on  the  part  of 
the  soldiers.  When  the  returning  victors  under 
stood  what  all  this  rejoicing  was  about,  the  ghastly 
trophy  of  savage  warfare  was  put  out  of  sight,  and 
the  soldiers  hastened  to  extend  their  congratula 
tions  to  the  newly  wedded  pair.  After  others  had 
expressed  their  congratulations,  Miles  Standish, 
advancing,  took  his  friend's  hand  and  said: 

"  Forgive  me.  I  have  been  angry  and  hurt. 
Too  long  have  I  cherished  the  feeling;  I  have  been 
cruel  and  hard;  but  now,  thank  God,  it  is  ended. 
Never  so  much  as  now  was  Miles  Standish  the 
friend  of  John  Alden." 

To  which  Alden  answered: 

"Let  all  be  forgotten  save  the  dear  old  friend 
ship,  and  that  shall  grow  dearer  with  age 


CHAPTER   XI. 

ROGER    WILLIAMS. 

Yet  better  were  this  mountain  wilderness, 
And  this  wild  life  of  danger  and  distress, 
Watchings  by  night  and  perilous  flight  by  day, 
And  meetings  in  the  depths  of  earth  to  pray, 
Better,  far  better,  than  to  kneel  with  them, 
And  pay  the  impious  rite,  thy  laws  condemn. 

— BRYANT. 

WHILE  the  private  affairs  of  the  principal  char 
acters  in  this  story  were  taking  those  strange  shapes 
by  which  a  capricious  destiny  moulds  and  fashions 
human  life,  we  have  seen  a  nation  forming  about 
them.  The  individual  is  so  intimately  and  insep 
arably  connected  with  the  history  of  his  country, 
that  a  complete  biography  of  even  the  humblest 
American  citizen  must  necessarily  include  a  portion 
of  his  country's  history.  Every  American  is  part 
and  parcel  of  this  great  commonwealth,  and  his 
country's  destiny  is  his  own,  whatever  his  station 
in  life  may  be. 

While  the  colony  at  New  Plymouth  was  strug 
gling  in  its  early  existence,  some  English  Puritans, 
189 


190  THE   PILGRIMS. 

restless  under  the  growing  despotism  of  King 
Charles,  began  to  turn  their  anxious  eyes  to  New 
England.  Under  White,  the  Dorchester  Company 
tried  but  failed  to  establish  a  eolony  at  Cape  Ann. 

In  the  year  1630,  Winthrop  in  the  Arabella 
came  to  the  colony  of  Higginson  at  Salem,  where 
he  found  the  people  wasting  away  by  fever  and 
famine.  Not  pleased  with  Salem,  Winthrop,  on 
the  17th  of  June,  entered  Boston  Harbor.  He 
ascended  the  Mystic  several  miles  and  took  back  a 
favorable  report  to  Salem.  Dudley  and  others  who 
followed  preferred  the  country  on  the  Charles  River 
at  Watertown.  By  common  consent,  early  in 
July,  the  removal  of  most  of  the  colonists  from 
Salem  to  Charlestown  took  place.  Although  it 
was  the  original  intention  of  the  emigrants  to  dwell 
together,  yet,  in  their  distress,  they  planted  wher 
ever  they  were  inclined.  A  few  remained  at  Salem ; 
others  halted  at  Saugus  and  founded  Lynn.  Gov 
ernor  Winthrop  for  awhile  held  his  office  at  Charles- 
town,  where  the  poor  "lay  up  and  down  in  tents 
and  booths  round  the  hill." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  river,  the  little  peninsula, 
scarcely  two  miles  long  by  one  broad,  marked  by 
three  hills  and  blessed  with  sweet  and  pleasant 
springs,  safe  pastures  and  land  that  promised  "rich 
cornfields  and  fruitful  gardens,"  attracted,  among 
others,  William  Coddington  of  Boston,  England, 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  191 

who  built  the  first  good  house  there,  and  who  may 
be  regarded  as  the  founder  of  the  great  city  of 
Boston.  Some  planted  on  the  Mystic  in  what  is 
now  Maiden.  Others,  with  Sir  Kichard  Salton- 
stall  and  George  Philips,  "a  goodly  minister  spe 
cially  gifted  and  peaceful  in  his  place,"  made  their 
abode  at  Watertown;  Pynchon  and  a  few  with 
him  began  Roxbury. 

Thus  began  the  formation  of  the  Massachusetts 
colony  under  Winthrop.  The  civil  government 
was  exercised  with  mildness  and  impartiality,  yet 
with  determined  vigor.  Justices  of  the  peace  were 
commissioned  with  equal  powers  with  those  in 
England  over  their  respective  jurisdictions.  On 
the  7th  of  September,  1630,  names  were  given  to 
Dorchester,  Watertown,  and  Boston,  which  thus  be 
gan  their  career  as  towns  under  sanction  of  law. 
"Quotas  were  settled  and  money  levied."  The 
"interloper  who  dared  to  confront"  the  public 
authority  was  sent  to  England,  or  enjoined  to 
depart  out  of  the  limits  of  the  patent. 

The  colony  was  struggling  in  its  infancy,  when 
there  appeared  on  the  stage  of  action  a  man  destined 
to  play  an  important  role  in  the  founding  of  a 
nation.  Mr.  Wilson,  the  pastor  at  Boston,  was  on 
the  point  of  returning  to  England  for  his  wife,  when, 
on  the  5th  day  of  March,  1631,  Roger  Williams 
"with  his  good-wife  Mary  "  arrived  in  the  colony. 


192  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Roger  Williams  was  born  in  Cornwall,  England, 
in  1599,  of  Welsh  parents.  Williams  early  be 
came  a  Puritan  in  religion,  and  aroused  the  oppo 
sition  of  his  father,  which  resulted  in  his  removal 
to  London,  where  his  promising  talents,  and  espe 
cially  his  remarkable  skill  as  a  reporter,  gained  for 
him  the  favorable  notice  of  Sir  Edward  Coke,  the 
first  lawyer  of  the  age.  Coke  sent  him  to  Sutton's 
Hospital,  a  magnificent  school  of  learnnig  now 
called  the  Charter  House.  Upon  the  completion 
of  his  preparatory  studies,  young  Williams  was 
admitted  to  Cambridge  University,  where  Coke 
himself  had  been  educated,  and  where  liberal  and 
Puritanic  sentiments  had  found  a  more  congenial 
home  than  at  Oxford.  He  was  matriculated  a  pen 
sioner  of  Pembroke  College,  July  7th,  1625,  and 
in  January,  1627,  he  took  the  degree  of  Bachelor 
of  Arts.  Under  guidance  of  his  illustrious  patron, 
Mr.  Williams  now  began  the  study  of  law;  but 
theology  possessing  superior  attractions  for  him,  he 
became  a  preacher  instead  of  a  lawyer.  He  was 
admitted  to  the  orders  of  the  church  and  assumed 
charge  of  a  parish  under  a  bishop,  who,  it  has  been 
said,  "winked  at  the  nonconformists."  While 
here,  Williams  met  many  of  the  leading  emigrants 
to  America,  including  his  famous  opponent  in  after 
years,  John  Cotton.  Even  then  Williams  was  very 
decided  in  his  opposition  to  the  liturgy  and  hier- 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  193 

archy  of  the  church,  as  expounded  and  enforced  by 
Laud,  to  escape  from  whose  tyranny  he  finally  fled 
to  America. 

On  landing  in  Boston,  Roger  Williams  found 
himself  unable  to  join  with  its  church  members. 
He  had  separated  from  the  establishment  in  Eng 
land,  which  wronged  conscience  by  degrading  its 
scruples.  They  "were  an  unseparated  people," 
who  refused  to  renounce  communion  with  their 
persecutors.  He  would  not  suffer  the  magistrate 
to  assume  jurisdiction  over  the  soul  by  punishing 
what  was  no  more  than  a  breach  of  the  first  table, 
an  error  of  conscience  or  belief.  They  were  willing 
to  put  the  whole  decalogue  under  the  guardianship 
of  civil  authority. 

Roger  Williams'  conduct  has  been  condemned 
by  modern  authors  of  high  standing  as  unnecessar 
ily  stubborn.  Had  he  lived  in  the  present  age,  he 
probably  would  be  denominated  a  "crank,"  and 
his  persecution  is  even  yet  justified  by  people  of 
unquestioned  ability.  Whatever  may  be  said 
against  him,  Roger  Williams  proved  himself  a 
Christian,  and,  considering  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  we.  must  accord  his  stubbornness  to  convic 
tions  of  conscience.  Of  course,  one  of  his  belief 
could  not  be  employed  as  a  minister  at  Boston,  there 
fore  the  church,  during  the  absence  of  Mr.  Wilson, 
was  commended  to  "the  exercise  of  prophecy." 
13 


194  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Mr.  Higginson,  the  pastor  at  Salem,  died  about 
this  time,  and  the  good  people  were  sadly  in  want 
of  a  teacher.  In  April,  Williams  was  called  to 
that  office.  Governor  Winthrop  and  his  assistants 
were  not  a  little  astounded  at  the  choice  of  the 
people  of  Salem,  and,  in  a  letter  to  Endicott,  they 
desired  the  church  to  forbear.  Roger  Williams 
had  scarcely  entered  upon  his  duties  when  this  let 
ter  reached  Endicott.  The  pastor  was  informed  of 
its  contents,  and,  refusing  to  renounce  any  of  his 
views,  he  withdrew  to  Plymouth. 

Here  Roger  Williams  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  Mathew  Stevens,  then  a  grave  young  man,  living 
with  Mr.  Brewster.  His  thoughtful  face  at  once 
attracted  the  good  man.  Williams  had  a  tender 
heart,  and,  learning  the  story  of  the  young  man's 
love,  sympathized  with  him. 

Since  that  awful  night  years  before,  when  Sarah 
White,  on  her  knees,  implored  Alice  not  to  tear  the 
veil  from  that  hideous  secret,  she  had  not  men 
tioned  it.  The  anxious  mother  noticed  how  day 
by  day  and  year  by  year  her  daughter  grew  paler 
and  more  melancholy.  Many  tears  were  shed  in 
secret,  arid  often  on  her  knees  at  prayer,  she  asked 
God  to  guide  her  in  this  trying  hour,  when  all 
seemed  so  gloomy  and  dark.  Like  one  forlorn  and 
forsaken,  beloved  but  never  to  wed,  Alice  went 
about  the  daily  routine  of  life.  Months  and  years 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  195 

had  glided  away  in  New  Plymouth,  since  the  ter 
rible  night  which  she  had  marked  as  the  period  of 
time  when  she  began  her  living  death.  The  waves 
of  life  which  had  threatened  her  frail  bark  after 
that  awful  tempest,  had  settled  back  to  their  usual 
flow.  How  imperious,  how  cold,  in  utter  disregard 
of  all  one's  feelings,  does  the  hard,  uninteresting 
course  of  daily  realities  move  on.  Still  we  must 
eat  and  drink  and  sleep  and  wake  again,  still  plant 
and  gather,  buy  and  sell,  ask  and  answer  questions, 
purriiie,  in  short,  a  thousand  shadows,  though  all 
interest  in  them  be  over.  Alice  smiled  on  the 
happiness  of  her  friend  Priscilla;  but  the  sigh 
which  rose  in  her  throat  denied  the  smile  its  joy. 

Roger  Williams,  deeming  it  his  duty  to  bind  up 
the  broken  heart  and  encourage  the  disconsolate, 
no  sooner  learned  that  there  was  a  silent  grief  in 
the  village,  than  he  hastened  with  his  sympathy 
and  prayers  to  make  matters  right. 

"It  is  a  hopeless  case,"  Mathew  Stevens  an 
swered  to  his  inquiry  of  the  cause  of  their  estrange 
ment.  "A  cruel  fate  condemns  us  to  misery. 
She  whom  I  love  is  cursed  with  some  withering, 
blighting  secret,  which  is  beyond  my  comprehen 
sion." 

"If  you  love  her,  why  should  secrets  or  mystery 
prevent  the  wedding?  "  asked  Williams. 

"She  will  not  wed  until  it  is  cleared  away," 


196  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"Who  has  it  in  keeping?" 

"Her  mother." 

After  long  contemplating  the  curious  case,  Will 
iams  said: 

"I  will  see  what  can  be  done." 

As  Roger  Williams  was  leaving  the  home  of 
Mathew  Stevens,  he  met  Francis  Billington  so  near 
the  house,  that  a  suspicious  person  might  readily 
conclude  that  he  had  been  playing  the  part  of  an 
eavesdropper.  Years  had  increased  his  ugliness. 
As  the  soul  shines  through  the  face,  a  vicious 
man  nearly  always  shows  it  by  his  features.  One 
of  his  front  teeth  was  gone,  and  his  hair  had  be 
come  so  mingled  with  white,  that  it  had  a  grizzled 
appearance. 

"  Ye  are  going  to  see  Sarah  White,"  said  Billing- 
ton,  taking  the  preacher's  arm,  and  leading  him 
along  a  forest  path  near  the  village  as  if  to  impart 
a  secret  to  him.  "  Ye  are  going  to  ask  her  why  her 
daughter  cannot  wed  Mathew  Stevens?  " 

"Yes." 

"It  will  not  serve  yer  purpose." 

"Why?  " 

"  The  grave  is  not  more  silent  than  she.  Her 
daughter  implored  her  until  she  swooned  to  unlock 
the  secret  in  her  heart.  Ye  may  lacerate  the  heart 
which  holds  the  secret,  and  make  it  bleed  and 
ache;  but  it  will  never  be  unlocked  to  ye." 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  197 

"What  do  you  know  of  this?"  asked  Koger 
Williams. 

"Nothing  I  am  at  liberty  to  tell  ye." 

Then  he  slunk  away  as  if  his  task  was  done. 

Roger  Williams  gave  what  he  had  said  careful 
consideration,  and  decided  not  to  probe  for  the 
secret  which  Sarah  White  kept  locked  securely  in 
her  breast. 

It  was  during  the  stay  of  Williams  at  Plymouth 
that  the  Sagamore  of  the  Mohegans  invited  the 
English  to  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut.  The  in 
vitation  resulted  two  years  later  in  the  emigration 
of  a  colony  under  Hooper  into  Connecticut,  driving 
their  cattle,  sheep  and  swine  before  them,  and  halt 
ing  in  the  wilderness  on  the  Sabbath  day  to  wor 
ship  God.  Thus  they  went  on  moving  into  the 
provinces  of  the  Dutch,  regardless  of  the  grumbling 
and  threats  of  the  Hollanders. 

In  1633,  better  auspices  and  the  invitations 
of  Winthrop  won  new  emigrants  from  Europe. 
Among  them  came  Haynes,  "  a  man  of  very  large 
estate  and  larger  affections;  of  a  heavenly  mind, 
and  a  spotless  life."  Then  also  came  the  most 
revered  spiritual  teacher  of  two  commonwealths, 
the  acute  and  subtile  John  Cotton,  the  son  of  a 
Puritan  lawyer,  eminent  at  Cambridge  as  a  scholar, 
quick  in  the  nice  perceptions  of  distinctions  and 
pliant  in  dialects,  rather  persuasive  than  command- 


198  THE   PILGRIMS. 

ing,  skilled  in  the  fathers  and  schoolmen,  but  find 
ing  all  their  wisdom  compactly  stored  in  Calvin. 
Thus  we  find  two  ecclesiastical  giants  in  the  new 
•world — John  Cotton  and  Koger  Williams,  and  it 
was  only  natural  that  their  diversified  views  should 
conflict,  especially  as  the  liberal  views  of  Williams 
were  so  far  in  advance  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 
The  liberties  he  advocated  could  not  be  obtained 
save  by  a  century  and  a  half  of  time  and  the  shed 
ding  of  blood. 

Thus  recruited,  the  little  band  in  Massachusetts 
grew  more  jealous  of  their  liberties.  "The  proph 
ets  in  exile  see  the  true  forms  of  the  house."  By 
a  common  impulse,  the  freemen  of  the  towns  chose 
deputies  to  consider  in  advance  the  duties  of  the 
general  court.  The  charter  plainly  gave  legislative 
powers  to  the  whole  body  of  freemen.  If  it  al 
lowed  representatives,  thought  Winthrop,  it  was 
only  by  inference,  and,  as  the  whole  people  could 
not  always  assemble,  the  chief  power,  it  was  argued, 
necessarily  lay  with  the  assistants.  The  people 
reasoned  differently  however.  To  check  the  dem 
ocratic  tendency,  Cotton,  on  election  day,  preached 
to  the  assembled  freemen  against  rotation  in  office. 
The  right  of  an  honest  magistrate  to  his  place  was 
like  that  of  a  proprietor  to  his  freehold;  but  the 
electors,  now  between  three  and  four  hundred  in 
number,  were  bent  on  exercising  "their  absolute 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  199 

power,"  and,  reversing  the  decision  of  the  pulpit, 
chose  a  new  governor  and  deputy.  The  mode  of 
voting  was  at  the  same  time  reformed,  and  instead 
of  the  erection  of  hands,  the  ballot-box  was  for  the 
first  time  introduced  into  America.  Thus  "the 
people  established  a  reformation  of  such  things  as 
they  judged  to  be  amiss  in  the  government."  It 
was  further  decreed  that  the  whole  body  of  freemen 
should  be  convened  only  for  the  election  of  the 
magistrates.  To  these,  with  deputies  to  be  chosen 
by  several  towns,  the  powers  of  legislation  and  ap 
pointment  were  henceforward  intrusted.  The  trad 
ing  corporation  was  unconsciously  become  a  repre 
sentative  democracy.  The  law  against  arbitrary 
taxation  speedily  followed.  None  but  the  imme 
diate  representatives  of  the  people  might  dispose  of 
lands  or  raise  money.  Thus  early  did  Massachu 
setts  echo  the  voice  of  Virginia,  "  like  deep  calling 
unto  deep."  The  country  was  filled  with  village 
politicians;  "the  freemen  of  every  town  in  the  bay 
were  busy  inquiring  into  their  liberties  and  privi 
leges."  With  the  exception  of  the  principle  of 
universal  suffrage,  now  so  happily  established,  the 
representative  democracy  was  as  perfect  two  cen 
turies  and  a  half  ago  as  now.  Even  the  magistrates 
who  acted  as  judges  held  their  office  by  the  annual 
popular  choice.  "Elections  cannot  be  safe  there 
long,"  prophesied  the  monarchists  in  England. 


200  THE  PILGRIMS. 

The  same  prediction  has  been  made  these  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty-eight  years;  but  time  has  proven  the 
predictors  to  be  false  prophets.  The  public  mind, 
ever  in  perpetual  agitation,  is  still  easily  shaken, 
even  by  slight  and  transient  impulses;  but  after  all 
vibrations  have  passed,  it  follows  the  laws  of  the 
moral  world  and  safely  recovers  its  equilibrium. 

"  The  order  of  the  churches  and  the  common 
wealths,"  wrote  Cotton  to  his  friends  in  Holland, 
"is  now  so  settled  in  New  England  by  common 
consent,  that  it  brings  to  mind  the  new  heaven  and 
the  new  earth  wherein  dwells  righteousness." 

While  the  state  was  thus  connecting  by  the 
closest  bonds  the  energy  of  its  faith  with  its  form 
of  government,  Roger  Williams,  after  remaining  a 
little  more  than  two  years  at  Plymouth,  accepted  a 
second  invitation  to  Salem.  He  took  an  affection 
ate  leave  of  Mathew  Stevens,  John  Alden,  and 
Alice  White,  to  whom  he  had  become  warmly 
attached. 

The  ministers  in  the  bay  and  at  Lynn  met  once 
a  fortnight  at  each  other's  houses  to  debate  some 
question  of  moment  and  conduct  other  religious 
exercises.  At  one  of  these  meetings,  in  November, 
1633,  Skelton  and  Williams  took  some  exception, 
for  fear  the  custom  might  grow  into  a  presbytery 
or  superintendency,  to  the  prejudice  of  liberties; 
but  such  a  purpose  was  disclaimed,  and  all  were 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  "Ml 

clear  that  no  church  or  person  can  have  power  over 
another  church.  Shortly  after  Williams  read  a 
paper  at  one  of  these  meetings  to  prove  that  a  grant 
of  land  in  New  England  from  an  English  king 
could  not  be  perfect,  except  the  grantees  "com 
pounded  with  the  natives."  This  theory  brought 
down  upon  Williams  a  storm  of  opposition,  the 
people  claiming  that  such  doctrine  was  treason 
against  the  charter.  He  consented  that  the  offensive 
manuscript  should  be  burned,  and,  the  court,  ap 
plauding  his  temper,  declared  "the  matter  not  so 
evil  as  at  first  it  seemed." 

Williams  had  aroused  the  jealousy  of  his  oppo 
nents,  and  as  church  and  state  were  so  closely  allied 
as  to  make  the  form  of  government  almost  a  the 
ocracy,  a  blow  at  one  was  a  blow  at  the  other. 
For  policy  sake  the  government  avoided  an  explicit 
rupture  with  the  church  of  England.  Williams 
would  hold  no  communion  with  it  on  account  of 
its  intolerance,  for  he  argued: 

"The  doctrine  of  persecution  for  cause  of  con 
science  is  most  evidently  and  lamentably  contrary 
to  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ." 

As  the  liberties  which  the  people  of  the  United 
States  now  enjoy  were  founded  on  the  doctrines 
and  teachings  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  one  may 
conclude  that  the  Saviour  of  mankind  was  the  first 
to  preach  the  doctrine  of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 


202  THE  PILGRIMS. 

The  magistrates  insisted  on  the  presence  of  every 
man  at  public  worship.  Williams  reprobated  this 
law.  The  worst  statute  in  the  English  code  was 
that  which  enforced  attendance  upon  the  parish 
church.  To  compel  men  to  unite  with  those  of  a 
different  creed,  he  regarded  as  an  open  violation  of 
their  natural  rights.  To  drag  to  public  worship 
the  irreligious  and  the  unwilling  seemed  only  like 
requiring  hypocrisy. 

"  An  unbelieving  soul  is  dead  in  sin,"  he  argued, 
"  and  to  force  the  indifferent  from  one  worship  to 
another  is  like  shifting  a  dead  man  to  several 
changes  of  apparel.  No  one  should  be  bound  to 
worship  or  maintain  a  worship  against  his  own 
consent." 

"What!  "  exclaimed  his  antagonists,  amazed  at 
the  argument  he  maintained,  "is  not  the  laborer 
worthy  of  his  hire?" 

"Yes,  from  them  that  hire  him,"  he  replied. 

The  controversy  finally  turned  on  the  question 
of  the  rights  and  duties  of  magistrates  to  guard  the 
minds  of  the  people  against  the  corrupting  influ 
ences,  and  to  punish  what  to  them  seemed  heresy. 
The  same  magistrates  who  punished  Eliot,  the 
apostle  of  the  Indian  race,  for  censuring  their 
measures,  could  not  brook  the  independence  of 
Williams,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  times 
seemed  to  them  to  justify  their  apprehensions. 


ROGER    WILLIAMS.  203 

An  intense  jealousy  was  excited  in  England  against 
Massachusetts;  "members  of  the  general  court,  in 
December,  1634,  received  intelligence  of  some  of 
the  episcopal  and  malignant  practices  against  the 
country."  In  the  earliest  years  of  the  Plymouth 
and  Massachusetts  colonies,  they  became  a  menace 
to  royalty.  An  English  nobleman,  a  gentleman 
possessing  the  wonderful  faculty  of  looking  far 
into  the  future,  prophesied  that  the  English  gov 
ernment  had  planted  a  people  across  the  water  that 
would  some  day  overthrow  monarchy  in  England. 
Though  his  prophecy  has  never  been  quite  fulfilled, 
America  has  been  a  menace  to  all  monarchies. 
The  magistrates  were  careful  to  avoid  all  unneces 
sary  offences  to  the  English  government;  but  at  the 
same  time  they  were  consolidating  their  own  insti 
tutions  and  even  preparing  for  resistance.  It  was 
in  this  view  that  the  freeman's  oath  was  instituted, 
by  which  every  freeman  swore  allegiance  not  to 
King  Charles,  but  to  Massachusetts. 

Thus  the  sons  of  freedom  began  to  build  barriers 
of  independence  against  the  crowned  heads  of  the 
old  world.  The  seed  of  freedom  began  to  sprout 
in  the  soil  of  the  New  World,  and  in  course  of 
time  it  burst  forth  in  that  glorious  flower  of  free 
dom,  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 

The  most  determined  of  Williams'  opponents 
was  John  Cotton.  It  might  have  been  jealousy 


304  THE   PILGRIMS. 

mingled  with  Cotton's  idea  of  right,  that  made  Mm 
the  persecutor  of  Williams.  Roger  Williams  not 
only  declared  for  intellectual  liberty,  but  preached 
the  doctrine  of  the  Anabaptists.  His  schismatic 
theories  were  seditious  and,  considering  the  times, 
really  dangerous.  He  had  many  followers,  some 
of  whom  had  come  with  him  from  New  Plymouth. 
At  last,  on  the  9th  of  October,  1635,  the  following 
order  for  his  banishment  was  spread  upon  the 
records : 

"  Whereas,  Mr.  Roger  Williams,  one  of  the  elders  of  the 
church  of  Salem,  hath  broached  and  divulged  new  and 
dangerous  opinions  against  the  authority  of  the  magis 
trates,  as  also  writ  letters  of  defamation,  both  of  the 
magistrates  and  churches  here,  and  that  before  any  con 
viction,  and  yet  maintaineth  the  same  without  any  re 
traction,  it  is  therefore  ordered  that  the  said  Mr.  Williams 
shall  depart  out  of  this  jurisdiction  within  six  weeks  now 
next  ensuing,  which  if  he  neglects  to  perform,  it  shall  be 
lawful  for  the  governor  and  two  of  the  magistrates  to  send 
him  to  some  place  out  of  this  jurisdiction,  not  to  return 
any  more  without  license  from  the  court. " 

Williams  had  so  many  friends  that  it  was  not 
until  after  a  severe  struggle  and  all  the  influence 
of  both  Governor  Winthrop  and  John  Cotton  had 
been  brought  to  bear,  that  a  decree  like  the  above 
could  be  obtained.  This  decree  was  obtained  in 
October,  yet  through  all  November  and  December 
Williams  remained  in  defiance  of  it.  Many  friends 


ROGER  WILLIAMS.  205 

hastened  to  him  with  sympathy  and  condolence. 
Mathew  Stevens,  Alice  White,  and  others  came  all 
the  way  from  Plymouth  to  Salem  to  express  their 
regrets  and  urge  him  either  to  return  to  Plymouth 
or  defy  the  law. 

"  You  will  find  an  abundance  of  supporters  ready 
to  draw  their  swords  in  your  defence,"  argued 
Mathew. 

"Nay,  nay,  my  friend;  my  master  said  to  his 
would-be  defender,  'Put  up  thy  sword  into  the 
sheath;  the  cup  which  my  Father  hath  given  me, 
shall  I  not  drink  it?  '  I  make  the  same  mild  re 
quest,  and,  could  I  do  so,  would  heal  any  of  the 
wounds  of  my  enemies.  I  will  not  go  to  England, 
but  seek  a  place  in  the  wilderness,  where  freedom, 
sublimity  and  God  alone  dwell.  Go  back  to  your 
homes — make  each  other  happy.  Farewell." 

On  their  return  to  New  Plymouth,  Mathew  re 
called  the  remark  of  Williams. 

"  Will  you  obey?  Will  you  make  me  happy?  " 
he  asked. 

Fixing  her  sad  blue  eyes  on  his  face,  she  an 
swered  : 

"Wait,  Mathew;  that  cloud  may  yet  clear  away. 
Wait,  hope  and  pray." 

Three  months  had  elapsed  since  the  decree  of 
banishment  had  been  issued  against  Roger  Will 
iams.  He  was  still  at  home,  and  the  magistrates 


206  THE   PILGRIMS. 

determined  to  arrest  the  malefactor  and  send  him 
to  England. 

It  was  evening,  the  15th  of  January,  1636.     A 


warm  fire  was 
>;  '  burning  on 
the  hearth  of 
Koger  Williams. 
His  young  wife, 
with  her  babe  on 
her  knee,  was  at 
his  side,  when 
there  came  a  rap  at 
the  door.  He  rose 
and,  opening  the 


HE  TOOK  SHELTER  IN  A  HOLLOW  TREE. 


GO,    ROGER   "WILLIAMS,    FLY   AT   OXCE  !  ' 


ROGER  WILLIAMS.  207 

John  Wheelwright,  a  silenced  preacher,  and  Mrs. 
Annie  Hutchinson,  whose  faces  betrayed  the  great 
est  excitement. 

"Go,  Koger  Williams,  fly  at  once!  "  cried  the 
excited  woman.  "Captain  Underwood  has  just 
landed  in  a  pinnace  to  arrest  you  and  take  you 
back  to  England  in  the  morning." 

Wheelwright  confirmed  what  she  said.  They 
had  learned  from  a  sailor  that  the  plan  was  to 
arrest  Williams  at  daylight.  There  was  not  a 
moment  to  be  lost.  The  banished  man  clasped  his 
wife  and  child  a  moment  in  his  arms,  then,  with  a 
small  bundle  of  clothes  and  provisions  and  no 
weapon  save  his  good  stout  staff,  he  set  forth  into 
the  stormy  night. 

The  night  was  dark,  the  wind  howled  and  flapped 
his  cloak  against  his  person,  while  the  snow  in 
eddying  whirls  almost  blinded  him.  He  felt  the 
biting  frost  nipping  his  fingers  and  piercing  his 
garments,  yet  he  resolutely  set  his  face  westward 
toward  the  wilderness  and  pushed  on. 

All  night  and  most  of  next  day  he  wandered 
through  an  uninhabited  forest  in  a  snow  storm. 
When  he  became  so  tired  and  benumbed  he  could 
not  go  any  further,  he  took  shelter  in  a  hollow  tree, 
where  he  found  a  goodly  store  of  nuts  provided  by 
wild  animals.  When  night  came,  he  again  set 
forth  into  the  wood,  and  had  not  gone  far,  when 


208  THE  PILGRIMS. 

he  espied  a  light  in  the  distance.  Through  the  dark 
ness  and  falling  snow  he  crept  to  it,  and  it  proved 
to  be  the  camp  fire  of  some  Wampanoags  who  had 
been  on  a  hunt.  Koger  Williams,  while  at  Plym 
outh,  had  befriended  some  of  these  Indians  and 
was  well  known  to  them.  They  took  him  to  their 
village  where  he  remained  several  days,  nursing 
his  frozen  feet  and  fingers.  While  here  he  was 
joined  by  several  of  his  friends  who  went  into 
voluntary  exile  with  him,  and  they  were  furnished 
a  guide  to  the  Narragan  setts. 

"The  ravens,"  declared  Williams,  "fed  me  in 
the  wilderness,"  and,  in  requital  for  the  hospitality 
of  the  Indians,  he  was  ever  through  his  long  life 
their  friend  and  benefactor,  the  apostle  of  Chris 
tianity  without  hire,  or  weariness,  or  impatience  at 
their  idolatry,  the  pacificator  of  their  own  feuds, 
the  guardian  of  their  rights,  whenever  Europeans 
attempted  an  invasion  of  their  soil. 

With  the  few  followers  who  had  overtaken  him 
in  the  wilderness,  he  began  to  build,  first  at 
Sekonk;  but,  learning  that  it  was  within  the  terri 
tory  covered  by  the  patent  of  Plymouth,  he  decided 
to  go  further.  At  about  this  time  he  received  a 
letter  from  Governor  Winthrop,  who,  after  all, 
seemed  to  retain  a  kindly  feeling  for  the  exile, 
advising  him  to  steer  his  course  to  the  Narragan- 
sett  Bay  as  it  was  free  from  English  claims  and 


ROGER  WILLIAMS.  209 

patents.  Williams  took  his  advice  and,  in  June, 
with  five  companions,  embarked  on  the  stream  in 
a  frail  Indian  canoe. 

The  spot  where  they  first  landed  in  the  new  ter 
ritory,  Williams  gave  the  name  of  Providence,  in 
token  of  God's  mercy.  Here  a  colony  was  estab 
lished  and  named  Ehode  Island,  from  the  name 
first  given  the  country  by  the  Dutch,  "Eoode 
Eylandt,"  meaning  Red  Island.  Admirers  and 
friends  came  from  Massachusetts  and  Plymouth  to 
the  new  colony,  where  absolute  freedom  of  con 
science  was  allowed.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and  others, 
banished  from  the  Massachusetts  colony  for  advo 
cating  too  much  liberty  of  conscience,  also  emi 
grated  to  Rhode  Island.  The  colony  became  pros 
perous,  and,  in  course  of  time,  Providence  was  a 
neat  little  town,  fast  growing  to  a  city,  and  Roger 
Williams,  the  exile,  obtained  a  patent  for  the 
colony,  now  a  State,  founded  in  sorrow  and  perse 
cution. 

It  was  for  many  years  an  asylum  for  the  perse 
cuted  from  Massachusetts,  and  Roger  Williams,  the 
founder,  is  one  whose  name  will  be  revered  by  a 
grateful  people  as  long  as  this,  the  smallest  state 
in  the  great  Union,  is  remembered. 
14 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE    SOLDIER   HAS   WORK. 

A  garland  for  the  hero's  crest, 

And  twined  by  her  he  loves  the  best : 

To  every  lovely  lady  bright, 

What  can  I  wish  but  faithful  knight? 

To  every  faithful  lover  too, 

What  can  I  wish  but  lady  true? 

— SCOTT. 

WHILE  human  passions  were  busy ;  while  fugi 
tives  from  persecution  in  turn  became  persecutors, 
and  drove  men  into  the  wilderness  for  daring  to 
exercise  the  religious  rights  which  they  them 
selves  had  crossed  the  seas  to  obtain,  the  age  of 
reason  dawned  on  New  England.  The  very  year 
that  Roger  Williams  was  sent  into  exile,  Mr.  John 
Harvard  founded  Harvard  College,  to  day  the  old 
est  institution  of  learning  in  America.  The  sturdy 
Puritans,  while  contending  with  jealous  kings, 
torn  by  internal  factions,  and  fighting  the  Indians, 
found  time  to  plant  colleges  and  seminaries  of 
learning.  The  age  of  reason  had  dawned,  and  out 
from  the  ashes  of  fiery  disputes  and  persecutions 

210 


THE  SOLDIER   HAS   WORK.  211 

came  the  phoenix  of  truth.  The  dawn  of  reason 
marked  the  awakening  of  liberty  in  thought  and 
speech.  The  awakening  was  slow,  but  sure,  and 
the  hardy  pioneers  of  Massachusetts  and  the  New 
England  colonies  were  the  ancestors  of  the  men  and 
women  who  first  demanded  and  obtained  liberty. 

Mathew  Stevens,  still  at  Plymouth,  sought 
solace  from  his  sorrow  in  work  and  speculation. 
Heaven  seemed  to  favor  him,  for  his  accumulations 
became  large.  His  trade  with  the  Indians  was 
lucrative,  and  the  wealth  which  he  affected  to  de 
spise  poured  in  upon  him,  far  surpassing  his  wild 
est  hopes.  Of  what  good  was  wealth  now?  He 
had  no  ambition  for  what  Alice  could  never  share 
with  him. 

A  few  months  after  the  banishment  of  Roger 
Williams,  a  messenger  arrived  from  Boston  with 
the  alarming  intelligence  that  the  governor  of 
Massachusetts  had  determined  on  hostilities  against 
the  Pequod  Indians  on  Block  Island.  The  Indians, 
who  had  murdered  Captain  Stone  two  years  before, 
had  further  roused  the  whites,  in  July,  1636,  by 
killing  John  Oldham,  an  enterprising  trader  from 
Massachusetts. 

Mr.  Hooker,  with  a  large  colony,  had  emigrated 
from  Massachusetts  to  the  Connecticut  valley.  In 
Hooker's  colony  there  were  many  friends  and  rela 
tives  of  the  people  in  both  Massachusetts  and  New 


212  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Plymouth,  and  it  was  but  natural  that  the  promise 
of  a  Pequod  uprising  should  fill  the  people  of  both 
colonies  with  the  gravest  apprehensions.  It  was 
thought  necessary  for  the  English,  by  one  strong 
blow,  to  show  their  power,  and  thus  intimidate 
both  the  Pequods  and  Dutch,  who  still  claimed 
Connecticut  as  a  part  of  the  New  Netherland. 
Such  a  warlike  expedition  had  been  planned,  and 
the  messenger  was  in  fact  but  a  recruiting  officer 
come  to  swell  the  ranks  of  the  army  for  the  cam 
paign. 

Mathew  Stevens  was  the  first  to  enlist.  By 
nature  he  was  a  soldier,  and  his  sword  had  long 
rusted  in  its  scabbard,  and  he  was  eager  to  draw  it 
in  defence  of  humanity.  Besides,  a  brisk  campaign 
might  give  him  rest  from  the  keen  sorrows  which 
were  weighing  him  down.  Next  day,  with  a  few 
others,  he  was  to  set  out  for  Boston  to  engage  in 
the  Indian  war.  He  had  not  seen  Alice  since 
that  journey  in  which  she  bade  him  wait  and  hope. 

He  had  waited,  hoped  and  prayed;  but  he  was 
seemingly  as  far  from  happiness  as  ever.  He  re 
solved  on  that  last  evening  to  pay  her  one  more 
visit.  Years  had  begun  to  tell  on  the  Pilgrim. 
Though  his  frame  had  lost  none  of  its  youthful 
vigor,  his  dark  hair  was  becoming  flecked  with 
gray. 

Going  to  the  cottage,  he  learned  that  Alice  was 


THE  SOLDIER   HAS   WORK.  213 

not  at  home,  but  would  soon  return.  That  sad, 
mysterious  mother  whom  he  had  so  long  avoided 
was  alone.  Sarah  White  was  paler  and  more  worn 
than  when  he  had  first  met'  her.  She  never  had 
been  pretty;  but  her  whole  life,  which  had  been  a 
succession  of  pious  works  and  efforts  to  shake  off 
some  shadow,  had  eventually  cast  over  her  a  cer 
tain  whiteness  and  brightness,  and,  in  growing 
older,  she  had  acquired  what  may  be  called  a 
beauty  of  goodness.  What  had  been  thinness  in 
her  youth  had,  in  her  maturity,  become  transpar 
ency,  and  through  this  transparency  the  angel  could 
be  seen.  Yet,  with  all  the  goodness  by  which  she 
seemed  blessed,  there  was  something  so  mysterious 
about  her,  that  Mathew  involuntarily  shrank  away. 

"  Alice  has  gone  across  the  street  to  Mr.  Alden's, 
and  will  return  in  a  moment.  Won't  you  sit  and 
wait?" 

A  plain,  straight-backed  chair  was  handed  him, 
and,  with  corrugated  brow,  the  Puritan  sat  down 
to  wait,  while  Sarah  White  busied  herself  about 
her  household  duties.  In  a  few  moments  Alice 
came  in  at  a  brisk  pace.  She  was  a  charming 
blonde  with  handsome  teeth.  She  had  gold  and 
pearls  for  her  dower;  but  the  gold  was  on  her  head 
and  the  pearls  were  in  her  mouth.  She  had  ad 
vanced  in  life,  and  the  innocent  beauty  of  child 
hood  had  given  place  to  the  matured  loveliness  of 


214  THE   PILGRIMS. 

womanhood.  Despite  the  flight  of  years,  and  that 
harrowing  secret,  which  hung  like  a  pall  over  her, 
Alice  did  not  seem  older  to  Mathew  than  when 
he  met  her  that  day  in  London. 

She  expressed  some  surprise  at  seeing  him ;  but 
the  smile  on  her  face  had  the  warmth  of  welcome 
in  it.  As  soon  as  they  were  alone  he  said: 

"Alice,  I  am  going  away." 

"Going away?"  she  repeated,  in  a  voice  indicat 
ing  both  surprise  and  regret.  "Where  are  you 
going?" 

"To  the  war  with  the  Pequods,"  he  answered. 

Then  for  a  long  time  they  sat  in  the  little  room, 
neither  speaking.  The  shades  of  twilight  gathered 
about  the  cottage  and  crept  into  the  dingy  little 
apartment.  At  last  he  spoke: 

"Alice." 

She  made  no  answer,  for  she  was  lost  in  a  sad, 
painful  reverie.  He  drew  her  to  his  side,  and  took 
one  of  her  hands  in  his,  in  that  old,  loving  way. 

She  made  no  answer  to  his  call,  and  he  said  no 
more;  but  both  sat  motionless  as  old  Plymouth 
Eock. 

After  a  long  time  the  mother  entered  the  room 
to  light  a  candle.  Then  they  were  roused  from 
their  strange  reverie.  Having  lighted  the  candle, 
Sarah  White  left  them,  and  Mathew,  now  that  the 
spell  was  broken  said: 


THE  SOLDIER   HAS    WORK.  215 

"Alice,  I  am  going  away  in  the  morning." 

"When  will  you  return?"  she  asked. 

"  I  know  not;  when  a  soldier  goes  to  war  he  may 
never  return." 

She  shuddered  and,  clinging  to  him,  asked: 

"  Why  need  you  go?  " 

"  Some  one  must,  and  it  may  as  well  be  I  as 
any;  but  let  us  not  comment  on  that.  It  is  already 
decreed  that  I  go,  and  I  may  never  return." 

Clinging  fondly  to  him,  she  murmured: 

"Mathew,  forgive  me." 

"  Forgive  you,  Alice?  Why  should  I  forgive  you? 
What  have  you  done  that  you  need  my  forgiveness?" 

"I  have  made  your  life  miserable.  I  have  been 
so  strange,  so  mysterious,  have  rejected  your  love 
so  long;  but,  believe  me,  Mathew,  it  was  for  your 
own  good  and  happiness  that  I  did  it." 

"Say  no  more  about  it,  Alice.  You  have  done 
nothing  for  which  I  need  forgive  you,  and  if  I 
have  suffered,  you  have  suffered  as  well." 

They  fell  to  discussing  the  future,  a  future  so 
dark  that  scarce  a  ray  of  hope  could  penetrate  it. 
They  parted  at  the  gate,  in  that  same  old,  loving 
way,  before  they  had  been  tried  by  the  withering 
blasts  of  sorrow,  and  Alice,  retiring  to  her  room, 
threw  herself  on  her  couch,  and  sobbed: 

"Cruel,  cruel  fate!  He  may  never  come  back 
again." 


216  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Mathew  hastened  to  the  home  of  Mr.  Brewster. 
The  good  man  was  still  awake,  waiting  for  him. 

"You  go  away  to  the  war  in  the  morning?" 
asked  Mr.  Brewster. 

"I  do." 

"Let  me  this  lesson  enjoin  on  you.  Be  a  brave 
but  gentle  soldier.  The  bravest  are  the  most 
humane,  and  those  who  would  conquer  must  take 
the  mild  precept  of  Prince  Emanuel  for  their 
guide." 

"  I  sometimes  fear  that  I  do  not  fully  appreciate 
those  gems  of  truth  which  are  such  consolation  to 
you,"  answered  Mathew  sadly. 

"Why?      You  are  not  a  backslider?" 

"No;  but  temptations  continually  rise  before 
me.  I  am  so  sorely  tried  that  sometimes  I  yield. 
I  have  not  the  forbearance  of  Job,  for  I  sometimes 
lose  my  temper  and  fall." 

Mr.  Brewster  bowed  his  head  and  slowly  made 
the  following  philosophical  answer: 

"Knowing  your  heart  trials,  I  sympathize  with 
you ;  but  you  must  ever  bear  in  mind  that  man  has 
upon  him  the  flesh,  which  is  at  once  his  burden 
and  his  temptation.  He  carries  it  with  him  and 
yields  to  it.  He  should  watch,  restrain  and  repress 
it,  and  only  obey  it  in  the  last  extremity.  In  this 
obedience  there  may  still  be  a  fault;  but  the  fault 
thus  committed  is  not  venial.  It  is  a  fall,  but  a 


THE  SOLDIER   HAS   WORK.  217 

fall  on  the  knees,  which  may  end  in  prayer.  To 
be  a  saint  is  the  exception,  to  be  a  just  man  is  the 
rule.  Err,  fail,  sin,  but  be  just.  The  least  pos 
sible  amount  of  sin  is  the  law  of  man ;  no  sin  at  all 
is  the  dream  of  angels.  All  that  is  earthly  is  sub 
jected  to  sin,  for  it  is  a  gravitation.  If  a  man  in 
that  spirit  falls,  he  will  rise  in  triumph.  He  falls 
in  weakness;  he  rises  in  glory." 

Mr.  Brewster  expressed  rather  liberal  views  for 
a  Puritan  this  evening;  but  he  knew  that  his 
strange  doctrine  would  not  be  misconstrued  by  his 
hearer,  and  he  had  more  of  the  love  of  Christ  in 
his  heart  than  many  of  the  professed  followers  of 
the  Saviour. 

Mathew  rose  early  next  morning  and  joined  the 
small  band  of  recruits  that  had  been  mustered  to 
set  out  for  Boston.  When  they  were  ready  to 
start  some  one  said: 

"  We  have  no  captain.  Let  us  choose  one  from 
among  ourselves." 

"  Is  not  Captain  Standish  going  with  us?  "  asked 
another. 

"  No;  it  has  been  thought  best  that  he  remain  at 
home;  for  if  the  Narragansetts  enter  into  an  alli 
ance  with  the  Pequods,  our  own  homes  may  be 
threatened." 

"Whom  shall  we  choose  for  our  captain?  " 

"Mathew  Stevens,"  some    one    cried.     Before 


218 


THE   PILGRIMS. 


Mathew  could  realize  what  his  comrades  were  about, 
he  had  been  selected  as  captain  of  the  expedition. 

They  embarked  in  a  pinnace,  and,  with  fair  wind 
and  tide,  sailed  to  Boston.  When  they  reached 
the  little  town,  they  found  it  in  a  great  state  of 
excitement.  Three  vessels  were  getting  ready  to 
sail  for  the  seat  of  war.  Drums  were  beating, 
trumpets  sounding,  and  the  New  England  volun 
teers  were  parading  the  streets  of  the  village  with 
as  much  pomp  as  if  they  composed  a  vast  army  at 

a  grand  review.  The  re 
cruits  from  New  Plym 
outh  were  greeted  with 
cheers,  and  their  choice 
of  Mathew  as  their  cap 
tain  was  sanctioned. 

They  were  only  a 
dozen  in  number,  rather 
a  small  force  to  have  a 
captain  over  them,  yet 
Endicott,  the  comman 
der  of  the  expedition,  thought  best  to  let  them 
serve  as  an  independent  company. 

The  troops  were  marched  aboard  the  vessels 
lying  in  the  harbor  ready  to  sail.  In  a  few  mo 
ments,  amid  well  wishes  of  friends,  cheers,  and 
booming  of  cannon  from  the  stockade,  they  set  sail 
for  the  seat  of  war. 


THE   SOLDIER    HAS   WORK.  219 

It  will  be  well  at  this  point  to  give,  for  the 
reader's  benefit,  something  of  the  situation  of  the 
English  in  Connecticut,  which  we  will  proceed  to 
do  while  the  fleet  of  Endicott  is  sailing  to  the  seat 
of  hostilities.  In  the  very  morning  of  the  colonial 
era  of  Connecticut,  dark  clouds  gathered  black  and 
threatening,  and  for  awhile  a  storm  impended, 
which  threatened  to  sweep  the  little  English  settle 
ments  out  of  existence.  The  fiery  Pequods  had 
become  jealous  of  the  English,  because  the  latter 
appeared  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Mohe- 
gans  on  the  West  and  the  Narragansetts  on  the 
East,  both  of  which  nations  were  hereditary  ene 
mies  of  this  warlike  tribe.  At  this  time  the  famous 
Sassacus  was  chief  or  Sachem  of  the  Pequods. 
He  was  cool,  calculating,  treacherous,  haughty, 
fierce  and  malignant  and  the  dread  of  all  the 
neighboring  tribes.  He  ruled  over  twenty-six 
Sagamores,  or  inferior  princes,  and  his  domain  ex 
tended  from  Narragansett  Bay  to  the  Hudson  River 
and  over  Long  Island.  His  bravery  won  the  un 
bounded  admiration  of  his  warriors,  of  whom 
almost  two  thousand  were  ready  to  follow  him, 
whithersoever  he  might  lead. 

Seeing  the  power  of  the  few  English  in  the  gar 
rison  at  Saybrook,  and  dreading  the  strength  and 
influence  of  more  who  would  undoubtedly  follow 
them,  he  resolved  to  exterminate  the  intruders. 


220  THE   PILGRIMS. 

By  every  art  of  persuasion  and  menace,  he  tried  to 
induce  the  Mohegans  and  Narragansetts  to  become 
his  allies.  The  united  tribes  could  have  put  four 
thousand  warriors  in  the  field  at  any  one  time, 
while  among  all  the  English  in  the  Connecticut  val 
ley,  there  were  no  more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty 
men  capable  of  bearing  arms.  How  easily  those 
fierce  pagans  might  have  annihilated  the  whites! 

The  wily  Pequods  did  not  declare  war  at  once, 
but  came  to  it  by  degrees,  moving  cautiously.  At 
first  they  were  sullen  and  kept  aloof  from  the  set 
tlers.  Then  they  kidnapped  children,  and  finally 
murdered  the  Englishmen  when  found  alone  in  the 
forest  or  on  the  waters,  and  destroyed  or  made 
captive  whole  families  on  the  borders  of  the  settle 
ments.  It  became  apparent  that  the  Indians  in 
tended  to  exterminate  the  English  in  detail,  and 
terror  reigned  throughout  the  valley.  The  capture 
and  murder  of  Oldham  was  the  final  climax  and  re 
sulted  in  the  warlike  expedition,  in  which  Mathew 
Stevens  took  part. 

The  vessels  sailed  into  Long  Island  Sound.  It 
was  night  when  they  came  to  Block  Island,  and 
moored  their  barks  on  the  end  opposite  the  Indian 
villages.  Every  precaution  was  taken  not  to  alarm 
the  foe,  and  the  troops  were  landed  and  formed  for 
the  attack. 

Mathew,  with  his  small  command  and  a  trusty 


THE   SOLDIER   HAS   WORK.  221 

guide,  set  out  as  an  advance  guard  for  the  little 
army.  Nothing  broke  the  silence  save  the  steady 
tramp  of  feet,  and  clank  of  arms  and  armor.  The 
night  was  still  and  all  the  stars  shone  brightly  from 
the  heavens.  There  was  no  moon;  but  the  stars 
gave  sufficient  light  to  enable  them  to  pick  their 
way  through  the  forest. 

At  last  the  guide  halted  and  said : 

"Just  over  the  hill  is  the  village." 

Mathew  ordered  his  small  command  to  halt,  and, 
grounding  their  muskets,  they  awaited  the  arrival 
of  the  main  force.  The  eastern  horizon  was  tinged 
with  the  first  faint  streaks  of  dawn,  and  as  Mathew 
watched  the  increasing  light,  he  reflected  that  with 
in  an  hour  they  would  be  plunged  into  a  terrible 
conflict  with  a  savage  foe.  Some  must  fall ;  per 
chance  he  would  be  one  of  the  number. 

Silently  he  breathed  a  prayer  to  God  for  his  soul 
and  for  Alice.  His  silent  invocation  was  scarcely 
over,  when  the  main  body  of  troops  arrived. 

By  this  time  it  was  broad  day,  and  Endicott  de 
termined  to  make  the  attack  at  once.  Already  the 
Indians  were  astir.  The  chirp  of  robins,  whistle 
of  blue  jays  and  chatter  of  squirrels  made  the 
forest  seem  peaceful  and  gay.  There  was  no  warn 
ing  to  those  unfortunate  natives  soon  to  be  swept 
from  the  earth.  Mathew  Stevens,  with  his  own 
men  and  eight  more,  was  left  to  attack  the  lower 


222  THE  PILGRIMS. 

town,  while  the  main  force  went  to  attack  the  larger 
village  farther  up  the  island.  Stevens  was  ordered 
to  wait  until  he  heard  the  firing  at  the  upper  town, 
and  then  to  pour  in  a  volley  and  fall  upon  the  sav 
ages  from  every  quarter. 

While  Mathew  was  watching  the  Indian  town 
from  his  ambuscade  he  espied  a  beautiful  Indian 
maiden  beating  hominy  in  a  mortar  outside  of  the 
nearest  cabin.  Doubtless  she  was  preparing  the 
morning  meal.  In  a  few  moments  she  was  joined 
by  a  young  man,  probably  her  lover,  who  placed 
his  arms  about  her  waist,  playfully  slung  her  about, 
and  then  assisted  her  with  the  pestle.  While  thus 
engaged  in  this  sort  of  dalliance,  wholly  unsus 
picious  of  danger,  the  rattling  crash  of  firearms  was 
heard  not  more  than  two  miles  up  the  river.  The 
moment  had  come;  the  matches  of  Mathew's  sol 
diers  had  for  some  time  been  burning,  and  he  gave 
the  command: 

"Fire!" 

Like  a  peal  of  thunder,  a  score  of  muskets  rang 
out  on  the  air,  and  the  Indian  lover  fell  a  corpse 
beside  his  dusky  sweetheart.  Ere  she  could  re 
cover  sufficiently  from  the  shock  produced  by  this 
sudden  attack  to  realize  from  whence  the  danger 
carne,  the  Indian  maiden  was  made  captive. 

Mathew,  at  the  head  of  his  party,  charged  into 
the  town.  He  lired  his  pistols  as  he  ran,  and  a 


THE   SOLDIER   HAS    WORK. 


223 


stalwart  warrior  who  had  snatched  his  bow  from 
his  wigwam  as  he  ran,  fell  pierced  by  one  of  his 
bullets.  The  savages  were  taken  completely  by 
surprise  and  made  little  resistance.  They  aban 
doned  their  wigwams  which  were  soon  in  flames, 
and  fled  to  their  canoes,  pursued  by  Mathew  and 
his  victorious  troops.  The  English  clubbed  their 
guns  and  knocked  two  or 
three  on  the  head  and  run 
others  through  with  swords ; 
but  most  of  the  Indians 
escaped  in  their  canoes. 
The  English  stood  on  the 
shore  firing  at  them  until 
they  were  out  of  musket 
range. 

After  destroying  three 
or  four  old  canoes,  they 
returned  to  the  town.  The 
wigwams  were  set  on  fire,  and  from  the  smoke  in 
the  direction  of  the  upper  town,  it  was  evident  that 
it  also  was  in  flames.  Nothing  more  remained  to 
be  done  at  this  place,  and  Mathew  took  up  his  line 
of  march  to  join  Endicott.  On  the  way  he  met 
the  main  force  at  a  cornfield,  which  they  proceeded 
to  cut  down. 

The  expedition    had    not    accomplished    much. 
The  two  insignificant   villages  were   destroyed,   a 


INDIAN  MAIDEN  BEATING  HOMINY. 


224  THE   PILGRIMS. 

few  Indians  killed,  and  the  standing  corn  destroyed; 
but  the  victory  was  small  at  best.  Then  they  went 
over  into  the  main  land  of  the  Pequods  and  de 
manded  the  murderers  of  Oldham  and  the  other 
whites,  threatening  the  whole  country  with  destruc 
tion  if  their  requests  were  not  complied  with.  The 
Indians  held  their  demand  in  contempt.  So  they 
burned  one  or  two  villages,  killed  five  more  sav 
ages,  and  turned  to  Massachusetts. 

Mathew  Stevens,  with  his  small  band,  boarded 
the  pinnace  and  sailed  for  Plymouth.  Nearing 
the  village,  the  eyes  of  the  Spaniard  saw  some  one 
standing  on  the  rock.  It  was  a  woman. 

"Alice,  awaiting  my  return,"  murmured  the 
soldier,  a  smile  like  a  beam  of  sunlight  spreading 
over  his  face. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

GOOD    FOR    EVIL. 

When  all  the  fiercer  passions  cease 

(The  glory  and  disgrace  of  youth)  ; 
When  the  deluded  soul  in  peace, 

Can  listen  to  the  voice  of  truth ; 
When  we  are  taught  in  whom  to  trust 

And  how  to  spare,  to  spend  and  give 
(Our  prudence  kind,  our  pity  just) , 

'Tis  then  we  rightly  learn  to  live. 

— CRABBE. 

THE  Hollanders  and  Puritans  played  a  sharp 
game  of  diplomacy  and  soft  words  for  possessions 
in  the  Connecticut  valley.  The  initial  Yankees 
outwitted  the  Dutch,  and  the  Plymouth  people 
outgeneraled  those  in  Boston.  There  was  a  tribe 
of  Indians  at  Plymouth  banished  from  the  Connec 
ticut  valley  by  the  Pequods.  They  still  had  their 
chief  and  preserved  their  tribal  organization,  and 
from  them  the  Pilgrims  purchased  a  tract  of  land 
above  the  Dutch  fort  Good  Hope.  A  house  was 
framed  and  stowed  away  on  board  a  ship  com 
manded  by  Mr.  William  Holmes.  In  this  bark 
15  225 


226  THE   PILGRIMS. 

sailed  a  remnant  of  the  Connecticut  tribe,  and  a 
few  Englishmen,  who  had  determined  to  locate  in 
the  valley  of  the  Connecticut. 

As  they  passed  Fort  Good  Hope,  they  were 
hailed  by  the  officer  of  that  garrison  with: 

"Where  are  you  going,  and  for  what  purpose?  " 

"Up  the  river  to  trade,"  answered  Holmes. 

The  Dutch,  who  had  become  jealous  of  their 
possessions  in  Connecticut,  feared  they  were  going 
to  settle  rather  than  trade. 

"Heave  to!  "  shouted  the  commander  of  the  gar 
rison,  standing  by  a  heavy  gun.  "Heave  to,  or  I 
will  shoot!  " 

"I  must  obey  my  commands,"  the  captain  an 
swered,  and  boldly  stood  up  the  stream. 

The  Dutch  commander  blustered  and  raged,  but 
did  not  shoot.  The  English  landed  in  the  purchased 
territory,  erected  their  house  and  took  possession  of 
the  country.  They  palisaded  their  house,  mounted 
two  cannon  for  its  defence,  and  sent  the  vessel 
back.  This  house  was  erected  on  the  site  of 
Windsor  in  Connecticut. 

Van  T wilier,  the  fat  clownish  governor,  who 
was  made  the  butt  of  ridicule  even  by  his  own 
countrymen,  heard  of  the  intrusion,  and  as  he  had 
been  instructed  by  the  home  government  to  hold 
Connecticut  at  all  hazards,  he  sent  to  Holmes  a 
peremptory  order  to  depart  with  all  his  people  and 


GOOD   FOR   EVIL.  227 

possessions  from  that  Dutch  domain.  To  this  de 
mand,  Holmes  replied: 

"  I  am  here  in  the  name  of  the  king  of  England, 
whose  servant  I  am,  and  here  I  will  remain." 

This  bold  intrusion,  in  addition  to  the  Hooker 
invasion,  did  not  make  the  Hollanders  very  anxious 
to  mix  in  the  Pequod  war  which  threatened  the 
extermination  of  the  English  within  their  own 
domain. 

The  expedition  to  Block  Island  only  tended  to 
rouse  the  indignation  of  the  Pequods,  who  began 
to  plan  a  war  of  extermination.  The  hated  Eng 
lish,  who  were  gradually  encroaching  on  their 
rights,  must  be  driven  from  the  country  and  the 
land  of  their  fathers  redeemed. 

Fearing  they  were  not  strong  enough  themselves 
to  accomplish  their  plans,  the  Pequods  sent  ambassa 
dors  to  the  monarch  of  the  Narragansetts,  urging 
him  to  join  them  at  once  in  a  war  of  extermina 
tion,  declaring  that  the  two  races  could  not  live  in 
the  same  land,  that  the  Indians,  who  would  soon 
be  the  weaker  party,  would  be  scattered  and  de 
stroyed  like  leaves  in  Autumn. 

In  his  little  Rhode  Island  home,  Roger  Will 
iams  and  his  faithful  followers  might  have  passed 
their  days  in  tranquil  ease,  even  though  the  war 
raged  in  Connecticut  until  every  Englishman  was 
driven  from  the  soil.  His  relations  with  the  Nar- 


228  THE   PILGRIMS. 

ragan setts  and  Mohegans  were  pleasant,  and  he 
had  little  to  fear  from  any  red  man,  for  he  had 
ever  been  the  friend  of  the  Indian,  and  no  race  of 
people  ever  had  greater  respect  for  friends  than  the 
aborigines,  before  their  morals  became  corrupted  by 
contact  with  the  worst  elements  of  the  white  race. 

In  his  security  and  peace,  Roger  Willams  heard 
the  cry  of  distress.  The  cry  came  first  from  his 
enemies  in  Massachusetts,  who  had  beloved  friends 
and  relatives  in  Connecticut,  who  were  hourly  in 
danger  of  extermination.  In  this  trying  moment 
they  appealed  to  Williams  whom  they  had  ban 
ished  to  exert  his  influence  to  prevent  the  Narra- 
gansetts  and  Mohegans  from  forming  an  alliance 
with  the  dread  Pequods.  This  appeal  fell  upon  a 
listening  ear.  He  had  already  sent  many  friendly 
warnings  to  the  English  in  Connecticut  and  Mas 
sachusetts,  and  he  was  willing  now  to  risk  his  life 
to  prevent  the  general  uprising  of  the  Indians. 

"Will  you  go?"  asked  his  brave  young  wife, 
on  learning  what  had  been  required  of  him. 

"Certainly,"  he  answered. 

"When?" 

"To-night." 

"Alone?" 

"I  can  accomplish  more  alone." 

She  made  no  objection;  but,  clinging  to  her 
children,  by  a  heroic  effort,  kept  back  her  tears. 


GOOD  FOR   EVIL.  229 

It  was  midnight,  and  the  wild  winds  were  howl 
ing  through  the  trees,  and  the  rain,  falling  in 
torrents  on  the  poor  roof  of  the  cabin,  leaked 
through  on  the  thick  puncheon  floor  below.  In 
the  dryest  corner  of  the  room,  Williams  had  placed 
the  bed  for  his  wife  and  children  and  spread  a 
piece  of  old  sail  as  a  canopy  above  it.  The  faith 
ful  husband,  kind  father,  and  devoted  friend  of 
mankind  laid  a  few  logs  on  the  fire  and,  kissing 
his  wife  and  sleeping  children,  went  out  into  the 
driving  storm,  alone  and  unarmed,  save  the  con 
sciousness  of  doing  God  and  man  a  service. 

He  baled  the  water  out  of  his  poor  canoe  and  set 
out  on  his  mission  to  the  Narragansett  monarch. 
Next  morning,  at  the  home  of  the  great  sachem,  all 
was  the  wildest  excitement  and  confusion.  Hun 
dreds  of  Indians  were  astir,  and  one  did  not  have  to 
be  acquainted  with  savage  life  to  know  that  some 
thing  of  more  than  usual  moment  was  transpiring. 

During  the  night  embassadors  had  come  from 
the  Pequods  with  the  proposition  of  an  alliance 
against  the  English.  Rumor  of  war  creates  great 
excitement  among  civilized  people  as  well  as  sav 
ages,  and  the  most  unambitious  Narragansett  was 
wild  with  excitement.  Savages  were  hurrying 
hither  and  thither,  and  there  were  many  comments 
as  to  the  result  of  the  conference  to  be  held  that 
evening. 


230  THE   PILGRIMS. 

The  Pequods,  terrible  in  their  war  paint,  and 
hands  still  red  with  the  blood  of  the  murdered 
whites,  mingled  freely  with  their  neighbors  the 
Narragansetts,  arguing  the  necessity  of  uniting 
against  the  English. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  a  strange 
being  appeared  among  them.  It  was  a  white  man, 
who  landed  his  frail  bark  at  their  shore  and  boldly 
advanced  toward  the  Indian  town.  The  Pequods 
saw  him,  and  their  eyes  flashed  with  hatred,  and 
gnashing  their  teeth  they  seized  their  weapons. 

"It's  an  Englishman — a  hated  white  man,"  said 
a  Pequod  warrior,  drawing  his  knife  half  way  from 
its  sheath. 

"Do  him  no  harm,"  a  young  Sagamore  returned, 
laying  his  hand  on  the  arm  of  his  neighbor.  "He 
is  a  good  man,  and  is  our  friend." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"Roger  Williams." 

That  name  was  not  unknown  even  to  the  Pequods. 
The  man  who  had  been  driven  from  Massachusetts 
and  sought  a  home  in  the  wilderness  was  the  friend 
of  all  Indians,  and  his  stubborn  defence  of  their 
rights  was  in  part  the  original  cause  of  his  trouble 
with  the  people  of  Massachusetts. 

"Why  does  he  come  at  this  time?"  the  Pequod 
asked,  for  he  fancied  from  the  first  that  the  visit 
of  Roger  Williams  at  such  a  moment,  portended 


GOOD   FOR   EVIL.  231 

ill  to  their  plans.  The  Narragansetts  made  no  an 
swer,  and  the  stranger  strode  bodily  up  the  hill. 

His  cloak  was  soaked  with  water  and  hung  drip 
ping  about  his  shoulders.  He  had  a  stout  staff  in 
his  hand,  which  he  used  to  support  his  steps  in  the 
wilderness  rather  than  as  a  weapon. 

A  dozen  Pequods  stood  with  lowering  brows  and 
flashing  eyes  watching  the  white  man  as  he  boldly 
entered  the  town.  Uoger  Williams  saw  plainly  de 
picted  on  their  faces  hate  arid  revenge.  It  seemed 
as  if  they  tried  by  their  glance  to  annihilate  the 
white  man.  To  one  man's  belt,  depended  two 
human  scalps.  One  had  the  long,  soft,  yellow 
hair  of  a  woman,  and  the  other  was  the  scalp  of  a 
child,  so  that  he  suppposed  they  had  been  torn 
from  the  head  of  a  mother  and  her  babe.  Though 
the  sight  sickened  him,  Williams  was  not  fright 
ened,  nor  deterred  from  his  purpose.  He  was  ac 
costed  by  a  Narragansett  warrior  with: 

"Whom  do  you  wish  to  see?"  Having  ac 
quired  the  Indian  language,  he  understood  the 
question. 

"I  want  to  see  your  sachem,"  he  answered. 

"He  is  busy." 

"Who  is  with  him?" 

"The  sagamores  of  the  Pequods." 

He  realized  now  that  he  was  not  a  moment  too 
soon.  The  great  Pequod  king,  or  sachem  Sassacus 


232  THE   PILGRIMS. 

himself,  had  come  to  wait  upon  Miantonomoh,  act 
ing  chief  sachem  of  the  Narragansetts,  for  his  uncle 
Canonicus,  the  real  sachem,  was  very  old. 

"I  must  see  and  talk  with  Miantonomoh,"  Wil 
liams  declared.  The  announcement  that  Mianto 
nomoh  "was  engaged"  did  not  deter  Williams. 
He  saw  a  young  man  among  the  Narragansetts 
whom  he  knew  to  possess  great  influence  with  the 
chief  sachem,  and,  taking  him  aside,  asked: 

"Is  Miantonomoh  holding  a  consultation  with 
Sassacus?" 

"He  is." 

"Does  it  relate  to  an  union  for  the  destruction 
of  the  English?" 

With  an  evasive  look,  the  Indian  answered  that 
it  did. 

"Is  there  any  danger  of  your  people  going  to 
war  with  the  English  in  Connecticut?" 

With  another  evasive  glance,  the  young  Indian 
answered : 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Do  you  think  Miantonomoh  would  break  faith 
with  us?" 

After  a  brief  silence,  the  young  brave  answered: 

"I  cannot  say.  The  Pequods  hold  out  many 
good  inducements." 

"And  your  people?" 

"They  will  do  whatever  the  sachem  directs." 


GOOD    FOR   EVIL.  233 

"Then  I  am  needed  here,"  thought  Koger  Wil 
liams. 

As  he  reflected  on  the  horrors  of  such  an  alli 
ance,  the  estrangement  of  all  the  Indians  whom  he 
had  hoped  to  convert  to  Christianity,  the  murder 
of  helpless  women  and  children,  the  thousands  of 
innocent  lives  jeopardized  by  such  an  alliance,  he 
repeated : 

"Yes,  I  am  not  a  moment  too  soon!" 

A  war  at  best  is  to  be  deplored;  but  war  with 
savages  can  only  be  contemplated  with  horror. 

"I  must  see  Miantonomoh,"  Williams  again 
declared.  "I  must  see  him  at  once." 

The  Indian  was  silent.  Turning  his  great  earn 
est  eyes  upon  the  young  savage,  Roger  Williams 
added : 

"You  can  gain  me  admittance  to  the  sachem; 
I  am  your  friend;  you  have  eaten  at  my  table; 
hasten  to  the  sachem  and  tell  him  I  must  talk  with 
him." 

The  young  Indian  conducted  Williams  to  his 
lodge  hard  by,  and  told  him  to  abide  there  until 
he  came  for  him.  Williams  threw  himself  upon  a 
pile  of  skins  and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands, 
prayed  God  to  give  him  success. 

"It  must  not  be!"  he  groaned. 

The  thought  of  all  the  horrors  of  such  a  war,  the 
burning  houses,  the  fleeing  women  and  children, 


234  THE   PILGRIMS. 

murder  and  rapine  throughout  the  fair  land  which 
God  had  given  his  own  as  a  home  of  peace  almost 
drove  him  mad.  It  seemed  an  age  before  the 
young  Indian  came  back;  but  when  he  did  return, 
he  brought  the  joyful  intelligence  that  Mianto- 
nomoh  would  see  him,  and  the  embassador  hast 
ened  to  the  lodge  of  that  chief. 

He  was  received  with  savage  dignity,  and,  after 
having  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace,  he  said: 

"I  have  travelled  all  night  through  the  storm  in 
an  open  boat,  chilled  by  rains  and  exposed  to  dan 
ger  on  land  and  water,  that  I  might  see  my  friend 
before  he  too  hastily  arrives  at  a  decision." 

Miantonomoh  bowed  his  head  and  gave  vent  to 
a  grunt,  but  said  nothing.  Eoger  Williams  con 
tinued  : 

"The  chief  sagamore  of  the  Pequods  has  come  to 
urge  you  to  take  up  the  hatchet  against  the  whites." 

The  sachem  was  still  silent,  and  Williams  waited 
for  him  to  express  his  approval  or  disapproval  of 
what  he  was  saying.  Finding  that  he  would  not 
say  anything,  Williams  resumed  his  argument. 
He  spoke  in  a  cool,  unimpassioned  manner,  re 
minding  the  sachem  of  the  good  feeling  which  ex 
isted  between  himself  and  the  whites.  The  Pequods 
claimed  to  have  suffered  great  wrongs;  but  had 
they  not  inflicted  greater,  not  only  on  the  whites, 
but  on  other  tribes  of  Indians?  As  an  argument, 


GOOD   FOR   EVIL.  235 

lie  referred  to  the  tribe  which  the  Pequods  ban 
ished  from  Connecticut,  and  which  had  taken  up 
their  abode  in  Plymouth  until  restored  to  their 
rightful  possessions  by  the  white  people. 

"But  I  am  not  here  to  plead  the  cause  of  the 
English  nor  the  banished  Indians,"  he  continued. 
"My  object  is  to  cement  the  friendship  and  pre 
serve  the  good  feeling  we  entertain  for  each  other. 
There  may  be  war  with  the  Pequods,  there  may  be 
many  slain,  much  cruelty  and  misery;  but  there 
is  no  occasion  for  the  Narragansetts  to  imbrue  their 
hands  in  the  blood  of  their  friends.  I  would  re 
mind  you  of  the  arrogance  of  the  Pequods  ere  the 
whites  came,  recall  their  cruelty  to  your  people, 
slaying  and  enslaving  them,  so  that  you  fain  would 
appeal  to  the  English  to  plant  in  Connecticut  as  a 
barrier  between  yourselves  and  these  warlike  peo 
ple.  The  whites  came  and  planted  the  barrier, 
and  now  they  ask  you  to  aid  them  to  remove  it. 
Who  knows  but  that  in  time  when  the  barrier  is 
removed  they  may  not  fall  upon  you  and  destroy 
you.  If  you  would  be  wise,  reject  their  proposi 
tion.  If  you  love  friends,  and  hate  enemies,  reject 
their  proposition.  If  you  love  home,  wife  and 
children  and  peace,  more  than  war  and  famine,  the 
forest,  fire  and  sword,  then  reject  the  offer  of  the 
Pequods." 

It  was  impossible  to  tell  what  effect  Roger  Wil- 


236  THE  PILGRIMS. 

liams'  speech  was  having  on  the  sachem.  He  sat 
unmoved  and  smoked  in  silence.  His  eyes  were  on 
the  ground  and  the  stoical  face  of  the  savage  ex 
pressed  neither  approval  nor  disapproval.  Mianto- 
nomoh  did  not  even  grunt  assent  or  disapproval. 
Roger  Williams  rose  and  without  a  word  left  the 
lodge  of  the  chief.  He  was  astounded  to  find  the 
sun  sunk  low  in  the  heavens.  The  da}*  was  almost 
spent. 

A  large,  powerful  Indian,  whose  rich  costume 
and  gay  feathers  indicated  that  he  was  a  chief  of 
some  note  among  the  Pequods,  was  waiting  with 
out  the  lodge.  His  arms  were  folded  across  his 
breast  and  his  eyes  were  flashing  fire.  As  he  turned 
his  baleful  glance  on  the  Englishman,  Williams 
could  not  repress  a  shudder.  Near  him  was  the 
savage  with  the  two  human  scalps  at  his  girdle. 
Their  fierce  looks  bode  the  white  man  no  good, 
and  but  for  the  presence  of  the  powerful  Narragan- 
setts,  they  would  have  slain  him  on  the  spot.  A 
throng  of  Pequods  gathered  about  Williams  as  soon 
as  he  emerged  from  the  council  chamber,  and  he 
began  to  have  some  apprehensions  of  danger,  when 
his  young  friend  came  and  led  him  away  from 
their  midst. 

"Did  you  see  Miantonomoh?"  he  asked. 

"I  did." 

"What  will  he  do?" 


GOOD   FOR   EVIL.  237 

C'I  know  not.  1  have  talked  with  him;  but  he 
has  made  me  no  answer,  neither  yea  nor  nay." 

"  There  is  a  white  man  in  the  woods  who  wants 
to  see  you." 

"Where?" 

The  Indian  pointed  to  a  clump  of  trees  and 
bushes  not  far  off  and  added: 

"He  is  hiding  there.  If  the  Pequods  know  it, 
they  will  kill  him!" 

Roger  Williams  accompanied  the  young  Narra- 
gansett  to  the  thicket,  where  they  found  a  red 
headed  young  man,  whose  great  blue  eyes  were 
full  of  dread  and  terror. 

"Why  are  you  here?"  asked  Williams. 

"My  name  is  Isaac  Tulley,  and  I  was  living 
with  a  family  in  Connecticut,"  he  answered.  "One 
night  the  Pequods  attacked  the  house  and  the  peo 
ple  were  all  slain  save  myself.  I  made  my  escape 
and  ever  since  I  have  been  wandering  in  the  forest, 
trying  to  make  my  way  to  Boston  or  Plymouth. 
For  days  I  have  been  without  food,  and  hoped  to 
find  friends  here." 

Williams  explained  how  matters  stood  at  the 
town  of  the  Narragansetts,  and  stated  that  he 
doubted  if  they  would  have  the  power  to  save 
him,  should  the  Pequods  become  aware  of  his 
presence. 

"The  Pequods  would  slay  me  without  a  doubt," 


238  THE   PILGRIMS. 

he  said.  "  I  shot  three  of  their  number,  and  they 
will  be  avenged  on  me  if  they  find  me." 

"  Stay  in  the  woods,  I  will  send  you  food.  We 
do  not  know  yet  what  the  decision  of  Miantonornoh 
will  be;  but  be  it  whatever  it  may,  you  will  be 
doomed  if  the  Pequods  find  you." 

"I  don't  want  to  die,"  whimpered  Isaac.  "I 
am  not  fit  to  die.  If  I  was  prepared,  I  would  not 
shun  death;  but  with  all  my  sins  I  cannot  meet  my 
God." 

There  was  no  time  to  convert  the  fugitive;  but 
Williams  informed  him  that  God  was  always  ready 
to  extend  His  mercy  to  any  who  would  accept  Him 
through  the  atoning  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  As  he 
was  going  away,  Isaac  said: 

"Won't  you  come  to  me  again.  I  am  so  lone 
some  in  this  forest.  I  have  lived  such  a  miserable 
life  since  that  awful  night,  that  I  feel  as  if  I  would 
go  mad  if  left  alone."  Roger  Williams  knew  what 
it  was  to  pass  lonely  hours  in  a  forest,  and  he 
promised  to  come  and  see  him  again  in  the  morn 
ing,  and,  bidding  him  keep  very  quiet,  left  him. 

That  night,  as  Williams  lay  in  the  wigwam  of 
his  Narragansett  friend,  he  heard  the  Pequods  all 
about  him.  He  slept  none,  for  he  could  not  con 
vince  himself  that  they  were  not  deliberately  plan 
ning  to  murder  him. 

"If   I   succeed,   I   will   do  God   a  service,"  he 


GOOD   FOR   EVIL.  239 

thought.  "Should  I  be  slain  I  will  be  giving  my 
life  in  a  good  cause." 

Nearly  the  entire  night  was  passed  sitting  on  his 
pallet  of  skins,  holding  his  stout  staff  in  his  hands. 
Morning  came  at  last,  and  the  angry  Pequods, 
who  had  not  dared  attack  the  holy  man  in  the 
darkness,  slunk  away  from  the  lodge  in  which  he 
lay. 

He  rose  early,  and  unobserved  stole  away  to  the 
wood  in  which  he  had  left  Isaac.  It  was  some 
time  before  he  could  find  him.  He  at  last  called 
his  name  softly  three  or  four  times  and  received  an 
answer.  Then  a  miserable  white  face  looked  out 
from  the  bushes,  and  a  young  man  with  the  dead 
leaves  clinging  to  his  hair,  crept  to  his  side. 

"I  have  passed  a  horrible  night,"  he  whispered. 
"Don't  leave  me  again,  for  I  heard  them  all  night 
long  coming  to  kill  me." 

"  I  cannot  remain  with  you.  To  do  so  would  be 
your  ruin  and  perhaps  would  prove  the  ruin  of 
hundreds  of  others,"  Williams  answered.  "You 
are  now  sufficiently  rested  to  travel,  and  you  must 
go  hence." 

"  Whither  shall  I  go?" 

"When  another  night  comes,  take  a  boat  and 
cross  the  bay  to  Providence,  where  you  will  be 
entertained  by  my  wife  and  friends." 

"Can  I  do  it?"  the  trembling  wretch  asked. 


240  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"If  you  are  discreet  and  keep  well  within  the 
shadow  of  the  forest." 

"If  I  am  discovered,  I  will  be  killed,  and  oh! 
I  am  not  prepared  to  die.  I  cannot  meet  my  God 
now." 

Williams  admonished  him  to  pray  and  seek  par 
doning  grace,  not  merely  on  account  of  his  immi 
nent  danger,  but  as  a  duty. 

He  returned  to  the  Indian  village,  where  he 
found  the  Pequods  using  all  the  skill  and  diplomacy 
of  more  civilized  statesmen  to  enlist  the  services  of 
the  Narragansetts  in  a  war  against  the  English. 
Regardless  of  their  scowls  and  muttered  threats, 
Williams  passed  through  the  throng  into  the  coun 
cil  house.  Miantonomoh  was  there,  also  Sassacus 
and  some  of  his  chiefs. 

Sassacus  was  delivering  a  harangue  to  the  great 
sachem  of  the  Narragansets,  who  sat  upon  his  chair 
of  state  in  silence.  Williams  listened  to  the  im 
passioned  address  with  profound  attention.  Sas 
sacus  went  on  to  show  how  the  Indians  had  suffered 
at  the  hands  of  the  whites,  much  of  which  Roger 
Williams  had  to  admit  was  true.  At  first  they 
came  but  a  handful ;  but  now  they  were  pouring  in 
like  an  avalanche,  and  the  Indians  were  gradually 
yielding  to  the  pale-faced  intruders.  "  Unless  we 
rise  up  in  our  might  and  drive  the  pale-faced  peo 
ple  back  across  the  sea,  we  shall  soon  be  swept 


GOOD   FOR   EVIL.  241 

away,"  ho  declared.  "Some  say  we  cannot  do 
this.  Where  is  the  coward  so  base  as  to  bend  to 
the  will  of  the  white  man?  Go,  see  your  small 
fields  and  hunting  grounds  day  by  day  growing 
less,  while  the  Indian  is  being  pushed  farther  and 
farther  from  the  land  of  his  fathers." 

At  conclusion  of  his  speech,  Roger  Williams,  to 
the  amazement  of  both  Pequods  and  Narragansetts, 
rose  to  reply.  He  admitted  there  had  been  bad 
Englishmen  like  Hunt;  but  there  were  also  very 
many  great  and  good  men  among  the  whites.  His 
object  in  the  New  World  was  to  bring  the  Indians 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  true  God.  He  dwelt  long 
on  the  horrors  of  war,  and  earnestly  pleaded  the 
friendship  of  the  English. 

Having  finished  his  speech,  he  turned  to  the  door 
of  the  council  house  just  as  a  Pequod  brave  en 
tered.  At  his  girdle  was  a  fresh,  bleeding  human 
scalp,  the  fiery  red  hair  smeared  with  blood. 
Roger  Williams  started  back,  and  exclaimed: 

"My  God!  they  have  killed  Isaac  Tulley!" 

Such  was  the  fact.  While  he  had  been  pleading 
for  mercy,  poor  Tulley  was  discovered  and  slain  in 
his  hiding  place. 

For  two  days  longer  Williams  labored  at  the 

court  of  Miantonomoh.      A  hundred  times  his  life 

was  in  peril;  but  the  Pequods  had  respect  for  a 

good  man  who  had  dared  so  much  to  plead  for  mercy. 

16 


242  THE   PILGRIMS. 

The  killing  of  Isaac  Tulley  almost  within  sight  of 
the  town  of  the  Narragansetts  was  unfortunate  for 
the  plans  of  the  Pequods.  It  enraged  the  Narra 
gansetts  against  their  dusky  brethren  and  brought 
the  conference  to  an  end.  Miantonomoh  decided 
to  remain  neutral. 

Eoger  Williams  had  achieved  the  greatest  vic 
tory  of  his  life;  but  it  was  at  a  greater  risk  than 
any  general  ever  gained  a  battle,  and  his  only 
weapon  was  the  sword  of  truth. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

FIRE    AND    SWORD. 

All  was  prepared — the  fire,  the  sword,  the  men 
To  wield  them  in  their  terrible  array. 

The  army,  like  a  lion  from  his  den, 

March 'd  forth  with  nerve  and  sinews  bent  to  slay — 

A  human  Hydra,  issuing  from  its  fen 

To  breathe  destruction  on  its  wi-        g  way  ; 

Whose  head  were  heroes,  which  cut  off  in  vain, 

Immediately  in  others  grew  again. 

— BYBON. 

ONCE  more  the  trump  of  war  awoke  slumbering 
vengeance,  and  fair  peace  spread  her  wings  and 
flew  weeping  away.  The  New  England  colonies 
were  going  through  that  fiery  ordeal  preparatory  to 
the  grand  struggle  for  liberty.  The  war-whoop, 
the  blazing  cabin,  the  dancing  savage  with  all  his 
infernal  orgies,  the  forest,  the  camp,  the  battle 
fields  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  comprised  the 
hard  school  in  which  patriots  were  trained  to  defend 
by  force  and  arms  those  liberties  which  they  had 
grown  to  love. 

The  Pequods  being  foiled  by  Roger  Williams  in 
their  efforts  to  form  a  combination  of  forces  with 
243 


244  THE   PILGRIMS. 

the  Narragansetts  and  Mohegans,  resolved  to  harass 
the  English  until  they  drove  them  out  of  the  Con 
necticut  valley.  Continued  injuries  and  murders 
roused  Connecticut  to  action,  and,  on  the  first  of 
May,  the  court  of  its  three  infant  towns  decreed 
immediate  war.  Uncas  was  their  ally.  At  this 
time  there  were  in  the  colonies  two  brave  soldiers 
who  had  served  in  the  Netherlands.  These  were 
Captains  John  Mason  and  John  Underbill.  The 
former  had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  military 
and  civil  affairs  in  Massachusetts  and  was  now  in 
Connecticut.  The  latter  was  an  eccentric  charac 
ter,  who  at  one  time  might  have  been  mistaken  for 
a  priest,  and  at  another  for  a  buffoon.  He  was  at 
Boston  at  the  time  of  the  declaration  of  war,  and 
under  him  Massachusetts  and  Plymouth  placed  two 
hundred  men,  while  in  Connecticut  Mason  was 
given  full  command. 

Plymouth  was  notified  of  the  commencement  of 
hostilities  again,  by  the  arrival  of  a  messenger  from 
the  afflicted  district,  with  his  face  full  of  woe. 

"What  news  do  you  bring?"  asked  Governor 
Bradford,  as  he  and  many  others  gathered  about 
the  messenger.  "We  know  it  is  bad,  for  your 
features  show  no  other!"  The  messenger  an 
swered  : 

"  The  Pequods  are  again  on  the  warpath.  A 
band  of  one  hundred  attacked  the  town  of  Weather- 


FIRE   AND   SWORD.  245 

field,  killed  seven  men,  a  woman  and  child,  and 
carried  way  two  girls." 

Governor  Bradford,  shocked  at  this  atrocity, 
asked : 

"  Why  does  not  your  colony  declare  war  against 
them?" 

"It  has  done  so,  and  I  am  sent  for  recruits." 

For  this  war  Mathew  Stevens,  the  Spanish  Puri 
tan,  recruited  eighty  men.  He  was  astounded  to 
find  among  the  enlisted  men  under  him  Francis 
Billington.  We  will  step  aside  in  our  story  at  this 
point  to  speak  of  the  fate  of  John  Billington,  the 
precocious  son  of  Francis  Billington,  who  came  so 
near  to  blowing  up  the  Mayflower  before  the  Pil 
grims  had  landed.  This  youth  grew  up  to  be 
bolder  and  more  desperate  than  his  father,  and 
committed  the  first  murder  ever  committed  in  New 
England.  For  this  murder  he  was  arrested,  tried, 
and  hung  in  the  year  1630.  His  untimely  taking 
off  did  not  soften  the  father.  He  became  a  morose 
man,  always  brooding  over  his  imaginary  wrongs, 
and  year  by  year  becoming  more  revengeful. 

Mathew  Stevens,  amazed  that  he  should  enlist  in 
his  company,  went  to  Miles  Standish  and  told  him. 
Standish,  with  his  keen  eyes  fixed  on  his  friend, 
said: 

"Mark  me,  he  hath  a  purpose  in  enlisting." 

"I  believe  he  has." 


246  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"  Have  an  eye  on  him." 

The  evening  before  the  departure  to  war  came, 
and  the  soldiers,  who  had  been  paraded  on  the 
streets,  broke  ranks  and  went  to  spend  their  last 
nights  at  home.  At  early  dawn  the  vessel  was  to 
sail.  Only  a  few  men  went  on  board  that  night  as  a 
guard,  though  their  arms,  ammunition,  provisions 
and  camping  outfits  had  been  taken  on  the  vessel 
during  the  day. 

Late  in  the  evening,  long  after  the  sun  had  gone 
down  and  the  stars  had  opened  their  bright  little 
eyes,  and  night  had  assumed  her  sway,  Captain 
Stevens,  having  performed  the  last  duty  incumbent 
upon  him  as  commander  of  the  Plymouth  troops, 
set  out  slowly  up  the  hill  to  the  home  of  Sarah 
White. 

No  candle  was  burning  in  the  window,  and  he 
thought  perhaps  Alice  was  not  at  home.  As  he 
drew  nearer,  he  heard  voices,  one  of  which  was 
unmistakably  the  voice  of  Francis  Billington. 

"Spare  me,  Francis  Billington,"  Sarah  White 
was  heard  saying.  "  You  have  wrecked  my  life, 
lo!  these  many  years.  Will  you  not  let  me  die  in 
peace?  " 

"  Sarah  White,  ye  know  I  have  sworn  it,  and  I 
will  not  violate  my  oath." 

What  had  he  sworn  that  he  now  found  impossi 
ble  to  violate?  Mathew  Stevens  asked  himself. 


FIRE   AND   SWORD.  247 

We  must  pardon  Mathew  for  assuming  the  role  of 
eavesdropper.  For  years  this  secret,  like  a  great 
black  giant,  had  stood  between  him  and  happiness. 
Now  that  he  had  an  opportunity  of  learning  it, 
who  can  wonder  that  he  should  yield  to  the  tempta 
tion  to  listen  to  the  people  within  the  cabin?  With 
wildly  beating  heart,  he  crept  around  to  the  rear  of 
the  house,  where  he  might  hear  better. 

There  was  a  window  there.  The  windows  of 
the  Pilgrims  were  made  of  paper  dipped  in  linseed 
oil.  and  were  no  more  transparent  than  stained 
glass,  although  they  admitted  some  light.  A  can 
dle  was  burning  in  the  rear  apartment,  and  he 
could  see  through  the  greased  paper,  dim  shadowy 
forms  within. 

The  voices  told  more  than  he  could  see.  His 
imagination  truly  pictured  the 'scene  within  that 
apartment  of  misery.  A  woman  was  wringing  her 
hands  and  weeping,  while  a  man  sat  near  her  with 
the  look  of  a  fiend  on  his  face.  lie  could  hear 
every  word  the  woman  said  as  she  pleaded: 

"Spare  me,  Francis  Billington,  spare  me!" 

Then  the  listener  heard  a  chuckle  and  the  voice 
of  a  devil  answered: 

"Spare  ye,  Sarah  White?  Yes,  I  will  spare  ye. 
I  don't  care  any  more  for  ye.  There  is  one  con 
dition  upon  which  I  will  cease  to  trouble  ye  for 
ever." 


248  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"What  is  the  condition?" 

"Ye  have  a  daughter." 

"What  mean  you?"  asked  the  astonished  wo 
man,  with  a  wild  sob. 

"She  is  young  and  beautiful.  There  is  some 
disparagement  in  our  ages;  but  the  difference  is  not 
great.  When  I  return  from  this  campaign — 

"Francis  Billington!"  the  woman  interrupted 
with  a  shriek  so  wild  and  fierce  that  it  caused  her 
listener  to  start.  Her  eyes  blazed  with  the  fury  of 
a  tigress,  her  breath  came  in  short  quick  gasps, 
and  she  glared  at  him  as  if  she  would  annihilate 
him.  For  a  moment  she  could  not  utter  another 
word,  and  he  was  dumb  with  amazement,  for  he 
had  never  seen  her  defiant  before.  At  last  she 
gained  her  voice,  and  in  low,  earnest  words,  that 
trembled  with  pent-up  emotion,  continued:  "No! 
no!  Francis  Billington,  I  would  nail  her  up  in  her 
coffin  sooner  than  that!  I  would  become  a  hissing 
and  a  by-word  for  the  entire  colony  sooner  than 
that.  Never!  never!" 

"Dare  ye  refuse?" 

"I  do." 

"Sarah  White,  ye  have  not  seen  one  side  of  my 
nature  yet;  it  is  the  dark  side!  Beware!" 

She  ordered  him  to  leave  the  house,  and  Billing 
ton  was  growling  out  some  words  in  dissent,  and 
Mathew  was  debating  in  his  mind  the  advisability 


FIRE   AND   SWORD.  249 

of  rushing  in  and  knocking  him  down  and  flinging 
his  worthless  body  from  the  house,  when  a  light 
footstep  coming  down  the  street  fell  on  his  ear. 

Hurrying  quickly  around  the  corner,  he  espied  a 
fairy-like  being  approaching  the  house.  One  mo 
ment  of  indistinct  vision  and  hesitation,  then  love 
and  intuition  overcame  doubt  and  darkness.  Her 
hand  was  in  his,  and  his  low,  melancholy  voice 
breathed : 

"Alice." 

"I  thought  you  would  come  before  you  left," 
she  answered. 

"I  could  not  go  away  without  bidding  you 
good -by." 

As  he  held  both  her  hands  in  his  own,  his  back 
was  toward  the  door,  and  he  saw  not  the  dark  form 
that  flitted  from  the  house.  Alice  saw  and  recog 
nized  it  and,  though  she  strove  not  to  appear  agi 
tated,  a  shudder  ran  through  her  frame.  Mathew 
at  her  invitation  entered  the  house  expecting  to 
find  Billington;  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
The  night  was  well-nigh  spent,  when  he  took  his 
leave  of  Alice  at  the  gate. 

Next  day  Captain  Stevens  was  early  astir.  The 
morning  air  resounded  with  blasts  of  trumpets  and 
roll  of  drums,  and  polished  helmets  and  burnished 
arms  glittered  in  the  rising  sun,  as  the  soldiers 
hastened  to  fall  into  line  to  march  to  the  vessel. 


250  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Friends  and  relatives  came  to  bid  them  adieu. 
Such  partings  are  always  sad,  and  many  an  eye 
grew  dim  and  many  a  cheek  sad  on  that  bright 
summer  morning.  The  air  was  mild  and  balmy; 
the  birds  sang  their  sweetest  songs,  and  nature  in 
her  gayest  robes  whispered  of  peace.  Those  soft 
New  England  skies  and  romantic  landscapes 
breathed  more  of  beauty  and  poetry  than  grim- 
visaged  war. 

Mathew  Stevens  marched  by  at  the  head  of  his 
command  to  the  great  stone  to  which  their  boat 
was  moored.  lie  was  half  way  to  the  place  of 
embarkation,  when  Alice  joined  him  and,  with  a 
smile,  accompanied  him  to  the  boat.  While  his 
soldiers  were  being  taken  on  board,  he  grasped  her 
hand  and  asked: 

"  Alice,  what  have  you  to  say  at  this  hour  of 
parting?" 

"Wait,  hope  and  pray,"  she  answered. 

He  went  aboard,  and  the  vessel  weighed  anchor. 
Off  Cape  Cod  they  fell  in  with  the  Massachusetts 
forces  under  Captain  Underbill  and  together  sailed 
for  the  seat  of  war. 

The  settlers  in  the  valley  of  Connecticut  knew  it 
was  not  safe  to  wait  for  their  allies  on  the  sea 
coast.  A  new  murder  had  aroused  them  to  the 
existing  dangers.  Mrs.  Anna  Hutchinson,  the  wo 
man  banished  from  Massachusetts  on  account  of 


FIRE   AND   SWORD.  251 

her  religious  zeal,  had  settled  in  Rhode  Island ;  but, 
dreading  the  persecution  of  bigots  which  still  threat 
ened  her,  she  took  up  her  abode  within  the  domain 
of  New  Netherland,  near  the  present  village  of 
New  Rochelle,  in  Westchester  County,  where  she 
dwelt  with  her  family  in  peace  until  the  wickedness 
of  the  whites  excited  the  wrath  of  the  Indians. 
With  blind  fury  they  swept  through  the  forest  de 
stroying  every  white  settlement  and  settler.  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  did  not  escape.  She  and  all  her  fam 
ily,  save  a  little  grandchild,  a  fair  curly-haired  lit 
tle  girl  of  eight,  were  slain.  Her  house  and  barns 
were  burned,  her  cattle  butchered,  and  her  grand 
child  carried  away.  The  young  warrior  who  spared 
her  life  took  her  in  his  arms  and  soothed  her  fears 
with  gentle  caresses.  Four  years  later,  when  little 
Anna  Collins  was  delivered  to  the  Dutch  Governor 
at  New  Amsterdam  to  be  sent  to  her  friends  at 
Boston,  in  accordance  with  the  terms  of  a  treaty, 
she  had  forgotten  her  own  language  and  was  un 
willing  to  leave  her  Indian  friends. 

Mason,  with  ninety  men,  took  up  his  headquar 
ters  at  Hartford.  With  twenty  soldiers,  the  cap 
tain  hastened  to  reinforce  the  garrison  at  Saybrook, 
where  he  found  Underhill  with  Stevens,  and  the 
combined  forces  from  Boston  and  Plymouth  just 
arrived. 

"As  Connecticut  has  begun  the  war,  it  is  best 


252  THE   PILGRIMS. 

that  you,  Captain  Mason,  should  be  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  combined  armies,"  suggested  Underbill. 

Mason  was  accordingly  chosen  commander  of  all 
the  forces.  Uncas,  one  of  the  Pequod  chiefs  of 
royal  blood,  who  was  in  rebellion  against  Sassacus, 
joined  the  English  with  seventy  warriors. 

After  a  long  council,  it  was  determined  to  go  to 
the  land  of  the  Narragansetts  and  march  upon  the 
rear  of  the  Pequods,  at  a  point  from  whence  the 
attack  would  be  least  expected.  So  in  three  pin 
naces  the  expedition  sailed  eastward.  As  they 
passed  the  Pequod  country,  those  savages  supposed 
that  they  had  abandoned  the  Connecticut  valley 
in  despair.  It  was  a  fatal  mistake,  for  the  reliance 
in  that  belief  proved  their  ruin. 

Two  hundred  Narragansetts  joined  the  English 
and  as  many  Niantuck  warriors  and  this  army  took 
up  their  march  to  the  enemy's  country. 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Underhill  of  Mathew  on 
the  evening  of  their  first  encampment  in  the  forest. 

"His  name  is  Billington." 

"He  is  not  a  very  dear  friend  of  yours?" 

"No." 

"I  fancy  not.  By  accident  I  overheard  him 
promise  a  Niantuck  warrior  his  old  shoes  to  cut 
your  throat.  He  must  be  very  much  interested  in 
your  demise,  or  he  would  not  sacrifice  his  shoes  on 
such  a  march  as  this  to  get  rid  of  you." 


FIRE  AND   SWORD.  253 

The  intelligence  was  alarming  to  Mathew,  and 
he  recalled  to  mind  the  remark  of  Captain  Standish, 
when  he  was  informed  that  Billington  had  joined 
the  expedition.  Stevens  went  to  John  Alden  and 
told  him  what  he  had  learned,  and  asked  him  to 
keep  an  eye  on  Billington  and  the  assassin  he  had 
bribed. 

That  night,  while  the  young  captain  slept  at  the 
root  of  an  old  oak  tree,  the  Niantuck  assassin  crept 
toward  him,  knife  in  hand.  Just  before  he  was 
near  enough  to  give  the  fatal  stab,  he  was  seized 
and  made  prisoner.  The  savage  made  a  fierce 
struggle;  but  Alden  held  him  as  if  in  a  vice,  and 
in  a  few  moments  had  him  secured.  The  camp 
was  aroused,  and  Billington  was  arrested.  He 
pleaded  his  innocence  and  denied  any  knowledge  of 
the  Indian's  intent.  The  warrior  was  turned  over 
to  his  chief  to  be  dealt  with,  and  Billington  was 
driven  from  the  camp.  He  went  to  Ehode  Island, 
where  he  remained  for  several  days,  and  from 
thence  wandered  to  Boston,  and  finally  returned  to 
Plymouth. 

The  stronghold  of  Sassacus  was  on  a  hill  a  few 
miles  north  of  New  London  and  Stonington,  near 
the  waters  of  the  Mystic  Kiver.  It  was  a  fort 
built  of  palisades,  the  trunks  of  trees,  set  firmly  in 
the  ground  close  together  and  rising  above  it  ten  or 
twelve  feet,  with  sharpened  points.  Within  this 


254  THE   PILGRIMS. 

enclosure,  which  was  of  circular  form,  were  sev 
enty  wigwams  covered  with  matting  and  thatch, 
and  at  two  points  were  sally  ports  or  gates  of 
weaker  construction,  through  which  Mason  and 
Underhill  were  destined  to  force  an  entrance. 
'When  the  attacking  party,  quite  undiscovered, 
reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  this  fort  stood, 
and  arranged  their  camp,  Mathew  and  John  Alden, 
who  went  forward  to  reconnoitre,  distinctly  heard 
the  sounds  of  noisy  revelry  among  the  savages. 

"Poor  deluded  beings,"  said  Mathew  with  a 
sigh.  "They  believe  all  danger  over;  but  it  is 
not.  Frequently  in  life  when  all  seems  peace  and 
quiet,  danger  hovers  like  a  dark-winged  angel  over 
the  world." 

"They  are  holding  their  Belshazzar  feast,"  an 
swered  John  Alden. 

"What  camp  fires!   what  songs!  what  dancing!" 

It  was  a  mild  June  night,  the  insects  sung,  and 
from  a  far-off  hill,  the  whippoorwill  poured  forth 
its  melancholy  lay.  It  was  a  night  of  peaceful 
slumber,  and  it  seemed  like  sacrilege  to  disturb  it 
with  the  rude  alarms  of  war.  At  midnight  the 
sounds  of  revelry  ceased,  and  at  two  in  the  morn 
ing  the  army  of  invaders  was  aroused  and  formed 
for  the  attack.  The  order  to  advance  was  given, 
and  the  army  crept  up  the  hill,  through  the  trees, 
and  among  the  shrubs. 


FIRE   AND   SWORD.  255 

Glittering  helmets  parted  the  flowering  bushes, 
and  the  heavy  boot  of  the  soldier  trod  the  sweet- 
scented  roses  to  the  earth.  Scarcely  had  the  ad 
vance  begun,  when  Underhill  said  to  Stevens: 

"Our  Indian  allies,  save  the  followers  of  Uncas, 
grow  weak  at  heart — they  fall  back." 

"They  dread  Sassacus,  whom  they  fear  as  a  sort 
of  god,"  Mathew  answered. 

"Though  they  lag  behind,  they  will  form  a  cor 
don  in  the  woods  to  slay  all  who  escape,"  put  in 
Mason. 

"If  it  be  not  us  who  escape,"  added  the  grave 
Underhill. 

In  the  bright  moonlight,  the  little  army  crept 
stealthily  up  the  wooded  slope  and  were  on  the 
point  of  rushing  to  the  attack,  wrhen  the  barking  of 
a  dog  roused  the  sentinel,  and  he  gave  the  alarm 
to  the  sleepers  within.  The  savages  slept  heavily 
after  the  feast  and  carousal,  and  before  they  could 
be  roused,  Mason,  Underhill,  and  Stevens  burst  in 
the  sally  ports.  As  the  terrified  Pequods  rushed 
out  of  their  wigwams,  they  were  met  by  a  volley 
of  bullets,  and  the  English,  charging  them  with 
swords.,  drove  them  back  into  their  dwellings. 

"Fire  their  wigwams,"  commanded  Mason.  In 
a  moment  the  night  was  lit  for  miles  around  with 
the  blaze  of  burning  wigwams.  In  one  short  hour 
seven  hundred  men,  women,  and  children  perished 


256  THE   PILGRIMS. 

in  the  flames  and  by  the  weapons  of  the  English. 
The  strong,  the  beautiful,  the  innocent  were  alike 
doomed  to  a  common  fate  with  the  bloodthirsty 
and  cruel.  The  door  of  mercy  was  shut.  Not  a 
dusky  being  among  the  Pequods  was  permitted 
to  live.  When  the  butchery  was  over,  Captain 
Mason,  leaning  on  his  sword,  dimmed  with  the 
conflict,  exultingly  exclaimed: 

"God  is  over  us!  He  laughs  his  enemies  to 
scorn,  making  them  as  a  fiery  oven.  Thus  does 
the  Lord  judge  among  the  heathen,  filling  their 
places  with  dead  bodies." 

The  great  sachem  Sassacus  was  not  in  the  doomed 
fort,  but  at  another  place  called  Groton,  on  the 
Thames,  to  which  point  Underhill  had  ordered  his 
vessels.  The  English  did  not  tarry  long  after  their 
victory,  but  began  a  march  to  form  a  conjunction 
with  the  vessels.  Three  hundred  warriors  were 
sent  out  by  Sassacus  to  attack  them.  Captain 
Stevens,  with  seventy  men,  was  in  advance  of  the 
main  force  and  met  the  Indians. 

"  Take  shelter  behind  trees,  and  fire  only  when 
you  are  sure  you  have  good  aim,"  was  his  command 
to  his  men.  They  obeyed  and  opened  fire  on  the 
Indians.  They  answered  with  steel -pointed  ar 
rows;  but  the  musket  proved  so  much  more  deadly 
that  the  Indians  were  put  to  flight  before  the  re 
mainder  of  the  army  came  up.  Most  of  the  victors 


"THE  DOOR  OF  MERCY  WAS  SHUT.' 


FIRE   AND   SWORD  257 

then  sailed  for  the  Connecticut,  making  the  air 
vocal  with  sacred  song.  The  remainder  of  the  Con 
necticut  troops  with  the  friendly  Indians  marched 
through  the  wilderness  to  Hartford  to  protect  the 
settlements  in  that  vicinity,  while  Mathew  hastened 
to  join  the  armed  settlers  from  Massachusetts  and 
Plymouth,  to  take  part  in  the  closing  tragedy  of 
the  Pequod  war. 

Sullen,  silent,  and  stately,  Sassacus  sat  in  his 
embowered  dwelling,  realizing  that  the  end  of  his 
reign  had  come.  The  remnant  of  his  warriors, 
escaped  from  the  ruined  citadel,  came  to  him  with 
their  tale  of  woe;  but  he  sat  unmoved.  Exasper 
ated  at  his  silence  and  stupidity,  they  charged  all 
their  misfortunes  to  his  haughtiness  and  misconduct. 
Tearing  their  hair,  stamping  violently,  with  fierce 
gestures,  they  swore  to  destroy  him.  He  still  sat 
unmoved,  and  a  tomahawk  was  raised  to  slay  him, 
when  the  blast  of  a  trumpet  fell  on  their  ears. 
No  sound  at  that  moment  could  be  more  appalling. 
From  the  head-waters  of  the  Mystic,  came  almost 
two  hundred  armed  settlers  from  Massachusetts  and 
Plymouth,  advancing  to  seal  the  doom  of  the 
Pequods. 

Should  they  fight  or  fly?  There  was  little  time 
for  deliberation.  Those  invincible  pale-faced  con 
querors  from  across  the  sea  were  on  them.  They  had 
conquered  in  the  past,  they  would  conquer  in  the 
17 


258  THE   PILGRIMS. 

future.  After  a  hasty  deliberation,  the  Pequods 
decided  on  flight.  They  set  fire  to  their  wigwams 
and  fort  and,  with  their  women  and  children,  hur 
ried  across  the  Thames  and  fled  westward,  intending 
to  seek  refuge  among  the  Mohawks  across  the 
Hudson. 

The  English  pressed  on  in  close  pursuit,  and  as 
the  chase  was  across  the  beautiful  country  border 
ing  on  Long  Island  Sound,  a  track  of  desolation 
was  left  behind,  for  wigwams  and  cornfields  were 
destroyed,  and  helpless  men,  women,  and  children 
put  to  the  sword.  The  fugitives  at  last  took 
refuge  in  the  Sasco  swamp,  near  Fairfiehl,  where 
they  all  surrendered  to  the  English,  excepting  Sas- 
sacus  and  a  few  of  his  advisers,  who  escaped  and 
fled  into  the  land  of  the  Mohawks. 

Terrible  as  was  the  Pequod  war,  it  had  a  whole 
some  effect.  A  blow  had  been  struck  which  gave 
peace  to  New  England  for  forty  years.  A  nation 
had  been  swept  from  existence  in  a  day.  But  few 
of  the  once  powerful  Pequods  survived  the  na 
tional  disaster.  Sassacus  lived  in  exile  until  he 
fell  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  and  his  scalp  was 
then  sent  to  the  English  whom  he  hated.  He  was 
the  last  of  his  royal  line  excepting  Uncas,  who 
now  returned,  to  the  land  of  his  fathers  and  became 
a  powerful  sachem,  renowned  in  war  and  peace. 
He  remained  a  firm  friend  of  the  English  and  was 


FIRE   AND   SWORD. 


259 


buried  among  the  graves  of  his  kindred  near  the 
falls  of  the  Yantic,  in  the  city  of  Norwich,  where 
a  granite  monument,  erected  by  the  descendants  of 
his  white  friends,  marks  the 
place  of  his  sepulchre.  It 
is  a  question,  after 
all,  if  Sassacus,  ac 
cording  to 
the  nature 
of  things, 
was  not  the 
patriot  of 


his  people 
and  Uncas  *  ~  ... 
the  traitor.  The  lat 
ter  loved  the  English 
because  he  hated  his 
chief  from  whose 
authority  he  rebelled. 
Eunice  Mauwee, 
who  died  at  Kent  in 
Connecticut,  in  1860,  at  the  age  of  one  hundred 
years,  was  the  last  full-blood  Pequod.  The  race 
is  now  extinct. 


ROGER  WILLIAMS'  HOUSE  AND  IN 
DIAN  CHIEF'S  GRAVE. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE    HARTFORD    CONVENTION. 

O  Freedom !  them  art  not,  as  poets  dream, 

A  fair  young  girl,  with  light  and  delicate  limbs, 

And  wavy  tresses  gushing  from  the  cap 

With  which  the  Roman  master  crowned  his  slave, 

When  he  took  off  the  gyves. 

— BRYANT. 

"  THAT  will  end  war  between  the  white  and  the 
red  men!"  So  prophesied  Captain  Miles  Standish, 
the  stout  old  Puritan,  when  he  learned  the  fate  of 
the  Pequods.  "It  will  be  many  years  before  an 
other  Indian  tribe  in  New  England  will  dare  take 
up  arms  against  the  English." 

And  Captain  Standish  ought  to  know  if  any  man 
did,  for  he  was  thoroughly  versed  in  the  art  of  war 
among  the  savages.  He  had  fought  the  first  bat 
tles  with  the  Indians  in  New  England  and  borne 
home  on  a  pole  the  head  of  a  belligerent  chief  whom 
he  had  slain  in  personal  combat.  It  was  not  a 
very  Christian-like  proceeding  and  would  be  con 
demned  by  all  civilized  people  of  to-day,  yet  it  had 
the  effect  of  intimidating  other  Indians.  When 

260 


THE   HARTFORD    CONVENTION.  261 

Mathew  wrote  an  account  of  the  affair  to  Mr. 
Robinson,  still  at  Leyden,  Holland,  he  answered: 

"  Oh,  how  happy  a  thing  it  would  have  been, 
had  you  converted  some,  before  you  killed  any." 

The  white  men  of  that  age  warred  with  heathens 
who  could  be  conquered  only  by  acts  at  which  civ 
ilized  people  shudder.  Captain  Standish,  having 
heard  a  full  account  of  the  Pequod  war  from  the 
lips  of  Mathew  Stevens,  gave  expression  to  the 
very  satisfactory  remark  with  which  this  chapter 
opens. 

"  That  will  end  war  between  the  white  and  the 
red  men." 

"Why  do  you  think  it  will?"  asked  Mathew. 

"  It  will  be  a  great  many  years  before  the  Indians 
can  recover  sufficient  courage  to  take  up  arms 
against  the  English." 

"I  hope  your  predictions  will  prove  true." 

"  Another  good  result  of  the  war  will  be  a  great 
influx  of  immigration  to  Connecticut." 

It  was  not  long  before  Miles  Standish  witnessed 
the  fulfillment  of  the  last  prediction.  No  sooner 
were  peace  and  security  fully  established  in  the 
region  of  the  Connecticut  by  the  destruction  of  the 
Pequods  than  emigration  thither  was  resumed. 

In  the  year  1637,  several  gentlemen  destined  to 
occupy  conspicuous  places  in  history  as  the  found 
ers  of  a  state  arrived  in  Boston.  The  most  con- 


262  THE   PILGRIMS. 

spicuous  of  the  new  arrivals  was  Rev.  John  Daven 
port,  a  popular  .Puritan  preacher  of  London,  who 
had  been  persecuted  by  Archbishop  Laud  until  he 
was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  Rotterdam.  Another 
was  Theophilus  Eaton,  an  opulent  London  mer 
chant,  and  a  member  of  Mr.  Davenport's  congre 
gation,  and  a  third  was  Edward  Hopkins,  also  a 
wealthy  London  merchant  and  a  member  of  the 
same  society.  They  were  much  attached  to  Mr. 
Davenport,  and  gladly  came  to  share  his  voluntary 
exile  from  his  native  land. 

Mr.  Davenport  and  his  congregation  belonged  to 
a  school  which  sought  to  carry  out  in  practice  the 
idea  of  finding  in  the  Scriptures  a  special  rule  for 
everything  in  church  and  state.  For  the  purpose 
of  trying  the  experiment  in  government  on  the 
basis  of  that  idea  they  desired  an  unoccupied  field. 
The  soldiers  who  had  just  returned  from  pursuing 
the  fugitive  Pequods  along  the  shores  of  Long  Island 
Sound  loudly  praised  the  beauty  and  fertility  of 
that  region,  and  early  in  autumn  Mr.  Eaton  and  a 
small  party  visited  the  country.  lie  was  charmed 
with  the  harbor  on  the  north  side  of  the  sound,  and 
on  the  banks  of  that  body  of  water,  which  the 
Indians  called  Quinnipiac,  he  erected  a  hut,  where 
some  of  the  party  passed  the  winter  to  try  the  cli 
mate.  The  hut  was  built  on  the  present  site  of 
New  Haven,  Conn.  Block,  the  Putch  navigator, 


THE  HARTFORD   CONVENTION. 


263 


who  had  anchored  for  several  days  in  the  harbor 
near  this  place,  had  named  it  "  Roodenberg, "  or 
Red  Hills,  from  the  red  cliffs  a  little  inland. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1638,  peace  being  restored 
beyond  question,  Mr.  Davenport  and  his  friends 
sailed  for  Quinnipiac,  where  they  arrived  about 
the  middle  of  April.  They  were  accompanied  by 
a  number  of  followers, 
mostly  persons  from  Lon 
don  who  had  been  engaged 
in  trade,  and  in  proportion 
to  their  number,  they 
formed  the  richest  colony 
in  America.  They  spent 
their  first  Sabbath  there — 
a  warm  April  day — passing 
most  of  the  day  under  the 
shadow  of  a  great  oak, 
where  Mr.  Davenport 
preached  a  sermon  on  the  subject  of  Jesus  being 
led  into  the  wilderness.  They  purchased  land  of  the 
natives  and  proceeded  to  plant  the  seeds  of  a  new 
State,  by  forming  articles  of  association,  called  a 
"  Plantation  Covenant,"  according  to  peculiar  ideas. 
By  this  covenant  they  resolved,  "  That,  as  in  mat 
ters  that  concern  the  gathering  and  ordering  of  the 
church,  so  likewise  in  all  public  offices  which  con 
cern  civil  order,  as  choice  of  magistrates  and  offi- 


DAVENPORT. 


264  THE   PILGRIMS. 

cers,  making  and  repealing  of  laws,  dividing  allot 
ments  of  inheritance,  and  all  things  of  like  nature, 
they  would  be  ordered  by  the  rules  which  the 
Scriptures  held  forth." 

Thus  they  began  their  settlement  without  refer 
ence  to  any  government  or  community  on  the  face 
of  the  earth.  The  king  of  England  seemed  to  be 
no  more  of  them  than  the  Grand  Kalm. 

The  place  where  the  first  hut  was  built  was  on 
the  corner  of  what  is  now  Church  and  George 
Streets,  New  Haven,  and  the  spot  whereon  stood 
the  oak  tree — their  first  temple  of  worship — was  at 
the  intersection  of  George  and  College  Streets. 

For  about  a  year  this  little  community  endeav 
ored  to  learn  by  experience,  from  reflection,  and 
light  from  Heaven  through  the  medium  of  prayer, 
what  would  be  the  best  kind  of  social  and  political 
organization  for  the  government  of  the  colony. 
Frequently  they  counselled  with  each  other  over 
the  future  and  their  form  of  government,  and  as 
the  society  began  to  grow,  there  came  other  ele 
ments  into  it  which  demanded  more  than  they  had 
yet  ordained. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1639,  all  the  "free 
planters  "  assembled  in  a  barn  to  compare  views  and 
settle  upon  a  plan  of  civil  government  according  to 
the  word  of  God.  Mr.  Davenport,  after  a  long  and 
earnest  prayer,  preached  a  sermon  from  the  text: 


THE   HARTFORD    CONVENTION.  265 

"Wisdom  hath  builded  her  house;  she  hath 
hewn  out  her  seven  pillars." 

In  his  discourse,  after  commending  their  deliber 
ations  to  the  Ruler  of  the  universe,  and  urging 
upon  them  the  gravity  of  their  undertaking,  he 
showed  the  fitness  of  choosing  seven  competent  men 
to  construct  the  government,  in  which  he  proposed 
for  their  adoption  four  fundamental  articles: 

First:  That  the  Scriptures  contained  a  perfect 
rule  for  the  government  of  men  in  the  family,  in 
the  Church,  and  in  the  commonwealth. 

Second:  That  they  would  be  ordered  by  the 
rules  which  the  Scriptures  held  forth. 

Third:  That  their  purpose  was  to  be  admitted 
into  church  fellowship,  according  to  Christ,  as 
man  and  God  should  fit  them  thereunto. 

Fourth :  That  they  held  themselves  bound  to  es 
tablish  such  civil  order,  according  to  God,  as  would 
be  likely  to  secure  the  greatest  good  to  themselves 
and  their  posterity. 

With  scarce  a  moment's  hesitation  or  debate 
theses  articles  were  unanimously  adopted,  where 
upon  Mr.  Davenport  presented  two  other  articles  de 
signed  to  put  into  practical  operation  the  theories 
of  the  other  four.  These  were  in  substance  as  fol 
lows  : 

First :  That  church  members  only  should  be  free 
burgesses,  or  freemen  endowed  with  political  fran- 


266  THE   PILGRIMS. 

chises,  and  that  they  only  should  choose  magis 
trates  and  transact  civil  business  of  every  kind. 

Second:  That  twelve  or  more  men  should  be 
chosen  from  the  company  and  tried  for  their  fitness, 
and  these  twelve  should  choose  seven  of  their 
number  as  the  seven  pillars  of  the  church. 

These  sub-resolutions,  or  articles,  were  adopted 
as  promptly  as  the  others  had  been,  and  subscribed 
to  by  about  sixty-three  persons  present,  and  shortly 
after  fifty  others  added  their  names.  Twelve  men 
were  chosen,  and  they  selected  the  "  seven  pillars 
of  the  church."  After  due  deliberation,  these 
"pillars  "  proceeded  to  organize  a  church.  Their 
assistants,  nine  in  number,  were  regarded  as  free 
men  or  "free  burgesses,"  and  the  sixteen  elected 
Theophilus  Eaton  as  magistrate  for  one  year.  Four 
other  persons  were  chosen  to  be  deputies,  and  these 
constituted  the  executive  and  legislative  depart 
ments  of  the  new  born  State  of  Quinnipiac.  To 
these  Mr.  Davenport  gave  a  "charge,"  grounded 
upon  Deuteronomy  I.:  16  and  17.  A  secretary 
and  sheriff  were  appointed.  The  "Freemans' 
charge,"  which  was  a  substitute  for  an  oath,  gave 
no  pledge  of  allegiance  to  king  or  Parliament,  nor 
any  other  authority  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  ex 
cepting  that  of  the  civil  government  here  estab 
lished.  "  It  was  a  State  independent  of  all  others. " 
It  was  resolved  that  there  should  be  an  annual 


THE   HARTFORD    CONVENTION.  267 

general  court  or  meeting  of  the  whole  body  in  the 
month  of  October,  and  that  the  "Word  of  God, 
should  be  the  only  rule  to  be  attended  unto  in 
ordering  the  affairs  of  government." 

Orders  were  issued  for  the  building  of  a  meeting 
house;  for  the  distribution  of  house-lots  and  pas 
turage;  for  regulating  the  prices  of  labor  and  com 
modities,  and  for  taking  measures  for  resisting  the 
attacks  of  savages,  for,  notwithstanding  they  had 
every  assurance  of  a  long  and  continued  peace,  they 
still  entertained  a  dread  of  the  savages.  They  also 
resolved  to  choose  their  own  company,  and  it  was 
ordained  that  "none  should  come  to  dwell  as 
planters  without  their  consent  and  allowance, 
whether  they  came  in  by  purchase  or  otherwise." 
In  1640,  they  named  their  settlement  New  Haven. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  all  the  English 
settlements  in  the  Connecticut  valley  existed  in 
the  face  of  Dutch  opposition.  The  Dutch  gov 
ernor  had  received  peremptory  orders  from  the 
home  government  to  hold  Connecticut  at  all  hazards ; 
but  the  weak,  vacillating  Van  Twiller  was  governor 
of  New  Netherland,  and  was  unable  to  enforce  any 
order.  The  English  planters,  in  face  of  his  oppo 
sition,  perfected  their  system  of  government  and 
prepared  to  possess  the  land  as  far  west  as  the 
Hudson  River.  People  from  Quinnipiac  and  the 
valley  planted  settlements  at  Fail-field,  Norwalk, 


268  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Guilford,  Stratford  and  Milford  on  the  Housatonic. 
Captain  Patrick,  the  commander  of  a  part  of  the 
forces  sent  from  Massachusetts  against  the  Pequods, 
who  had  married  a  Dutch  wife,  settled  as  far  west 
ward  as  Greenwich  with  a  son-in-law  of  the  elder 
Governor  Winthrop.  At  that  time  there  were  no 
Dutch  settlers  east  of  the  Harlem  River,  excepting 
Bronck  and  his  lessees  or  tenants.  The  Dutch, 
however,  continued  in  possession  of  their  lands  at 
Good  Hope,  where  a  small  garrison  was  kept.  The 
English  had  as  little  regard  for  the  rights  of  the 
Dutch  as  the  Hollanders  had  formerly  paid  to  the 
rights  of  the  English.  As  they  grew  stronger,  they 
plowed  up  the  Dutchmen's  lands,  excusing  them 
selves  for  the  intrusion  on  the  plea  that  the  ground 
was  lying  idle  and  ought  to  be  cultivated  by  some 
body.  The  Dutch  commissary  attempted  to  resist 
these  encroachments;  but  the  sturdy  Englishmen 
cudgeled  his  soldiers,  declaring  that  they  and  the 
English  in  Virginia  were  Egyptians — a  term  given 
in  derision,  wliich  at  this  day  seems  to  have  lost 
its  force. 

The  matter  was  discussed  at  New  Amsterdam, 
and  the  Dutch  governor  made  a  great  bluster  about 
driving  the  English  out  of  their  domain.  Hans 
Van  Brunt,  who  had  been  visiting  his  friend 
Mathew  at  Plymouth,  and  whose  knowledge  of  the 
strength  of  the  English  was  better  than  any  other 


THE   HARTFORD    CONVENTION.  269 

man's  in  the  New  Netherland,  was  consulted  as  to 
the  advisability  of  driving  the  English  out  of  Con 
necticut. 

"  They  have  a  separate  government  and  claim  no 
allegiance  to  the  king  of  England,"  urged  the 
more  belligerently  inclined  Dutch. 

"Nevertheless,  an  attempt  to  expel  them  from 
the  valley  of  the  Connecticut  will  involve  us  in  a 
war  with  England,"  answered  Hans. 

"Are  they  strong?" 

"Not  yet;  but  they  daily  increase  in  strength." 

So  the  English  in  Connecticut,  despite  the 
bluster  of  the  Dutch  at  New  Amsterdam,  went  on 
planting  and  building,  and  emigrants  continued  to 
pour  into  the  "goodly  country."  The  troubles 
with  their  neighbors,  both  pale  and  dusky,  and  the 
necessity  which  called  for  fundamental  laws,  in 
duced  the  planters  of  the  valley  to  meet  in  conven 
tion  at  Hartford  in  the  middle  of  January,  1639, 
to  form  a  constitution  of  government.  Like  that 
of  the  New  Haven  Colony,  it  was  framed  without 
the  slightest  reference  to  any  other  government.  It 
required  that  all  persons  of  the  commonwealth 
should  be  freemen  and  should  take  an  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  general  government;  that  the 
governor,  to  be  elected  at  each  spring  meeting  of 
the  freemen,  should  be  a  member  of  some  church. 
There  should  be  as  many  magistrates,  at  no  time 


270  THE   PILGRIMS. 

to  be  less  than  six,  as  well  as  other  officers,  as 
should  be  found  necessary.  There  should  be  a 
house  of  deputies,  composed  of  four  from  each  of 
the  then  existing  towns,  and  as  many  as  the  gen 
eral  court  or  legislature  should  determine  from 
towns  that  might  subsequently  be  created,  and  the 
governor,  four  magistrates  and  a  majority  of  the 
deputies  should  be  competent  to  make  all  laws 
and  deal  generally  for  the  good  of  the  common 
wealth.  In  the  absence  of  special  laws,  "  the  rule 
of  the  word  of  God  "  was  to  be  followed.  Thus 
were  two  governments  alike  democratic  and  theo 
cratic  formed  in  Connecticut. 

The  instrument  above  referred  to  has  been  re 
garded  as  the  "  first  example  in  history  of  a  written 
constitution,  a  distinct  organic  law,  constituting  a 
government  and  defining  its  powers."  It  boldly 
recognized  no  authority  outside  of  its  own  inherent 
powers,  and  it  continued  in  force  as  the  funda* 
mental  law  of  Connecticut  one  hundred  and  eighty 
years.  It  secured  for  that  commonwealth  a  degree 
of  social  order  and  general  prosperity  rarely  equalled 
in  the  life  of  nations.  The  political  organization 
under  it  was  called  the  Connecticut  Colony,  and 
the  domain  acquired  the  title  of  the  land  of  steady 
habits.  Although  the  two  colonies  were  not  united 
until  twenty-six  years  afterward,  in  the  year  1639 


THE  HARTFORD    CONVENTION.  271 

was  laid  the  foundation  of  the  commonwealth  of 
Connecticut. 

The  Hartford  Convention  was  another  nail  in  the 
coffin  of  tyranny  and  monarchy.  The  infant  col 
ony,  cradled  in  liberty,  could  bring  forth  only 
freemen. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE    MISCHIEF-MAKER. 

Oh,  such  a  deed 

As  from  the  body  of  contraction  plucks 
The  very  soul ;  and  sweet  religion  makes 
A  rhapsody  of  words.     Heaven's  face  doth  glow ; 
Yea,  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 
With  tristful  visage,  as  against  the  doom, 
Is  thought — sick  at  the  act. 

— SHAKESPEARE. 

SOME  people  seem  born  to  make  others  misera 
ble,  though  the  task  should  add  to  their  own  sor 
row;  but  it  becomes  their  mission  in  life.  They 
are  the  children  of  darkness  and  serve  their  master, 
even  though  it  be  against  their  own  interests. 
Francis  Billington  was  such  a  person.  He  hated 
people,  because  he  could  not  help  it.  There  was 
no  forgiveness  nor  forbearance  in  his  nature. 

A  man  who  hates  can  never  be  trusted.  He  is 
not  a  good  citizen,  and  would  make  a  partial  mag 
istrate  or  juror.  Billington' s  son  John  had  inher 
ited  his  father's  disposition,  and  it  brought  his 
career  to  an  early  end  on  the  gallows. 

272 


THE   MISCHIEF-MAKER.  273 

On  the  return  of  the  soldiers  from  their  success 
ful  Pequod  campaign,  fearing  he  would  be  pun 
ished  for  his  effort  to  assassinate  Mathew  Stevens, 
Billington  fled  once  more  into  the  wilderness. 
Whither  he  had  gone  no  one  knew  until  a  report 
was  brought  to  the  village  that  a  man  answering 
his  description  had  been  seen  at  New  Amsterdam. 
The  people  congratulated  themselves  on  being  rid 
of  him  forever.  A  change  quickly  came  over 
Alice  and  her  mother.  Not  long  after  it  was  cur 
rently  reported  that  Sarah  White  had  been  known 
to  smile,  and  that  her  cheek,  so  long  haggard  and 
pale,  had  assumed  a  flush  of  health.  This,  if  true, 
was  remarkable,  for  no  one  had  known  Sarah 
White  to  smile  for  years. 

The  change  was  even  greater  in  Alice.  A 
neighbor  passing  the  cottage  actually  heard  her 
singing.  Birds  only  sing  when  happy,  and  if  Alice 
sang,  she  must  be  nearing  the  land  of  happiness. 

Mathew  returned  safe  from  the  war  in  far-off 
Connecticut,  loaded  with  honors.  Since  his  return 
the  young  captain  was  seen  more  frequently  with 
Alice,  and  the  good  dames  put  their  heads  together, 
and  began  to  whisper  that  there  would  be  another 
wedding  soon. 

"Why  don't  they  wed?"  Mrs.  Hopkins  asked, 
as  she  plied  her  knitting  needles,  on  the  afternoon 
of  her  call  on  Mrs.  Fuller. 
18 


274  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"I  know  not,"  was  Mrs.  Fuller's  answer,  as  she 
picked  her  wool  for  the  cards. 

"Mathew  is  old  enough,"  continued  Mrs.  Hop 
kins.  "His  hair  which  I  can  remember  on  the 
Mayflower  as  being  black  as  midnight  is  now 
sprinkled  with  gray." 

"Ah!  "  he  was  a  blythe  young  lad  then,"  re 
turned  Nancy  Fuller.  "I  remember  our  voyage 
on  the  Mayflovjer  as  well  as  if  it  were  but  yester 
day.  Those  were  trying  times,  Mary  Hopkins." 

"You  speak  truly,  Nancy ,"  good  dame  Hopkins 
answered.  "  We  were  Pilgrims,  bound  we  knew 
not  where." 

"Unless  to  Heaven." 

"  Alas,  Nancy,  many  did  go.  Don't  I  remem 
ber  how  poor  Eose  Standish  sickened  and  died?" 

"And  then  followed  good  Mr.  Mullins  and  Gov 
ernor  Carver  and  others  so  rapidly,  that  I  thought 
we  should  all  perish,"  and  the  good  dames  shook 
their  heads  until  the  ruffles  of  their  caps  trembled. 
Realizing  that  they  had  slightly  wrandered  from  the 
subject,  Nancy  Hopkins  returned  to  it  by  saying: 

"  I  did  hear  that  he  was  seen  last  Sabbath  talk 
ing  quite  seriously  with  her." 

"Did  you?" 

"Yes,  Priscilla  Alden — she  as  was  Priscilla 
Mullins — told  me,  and  she  hopes  they  will  soon 
wed." 


THE  MISCHIEF-MAKER.  275 

"Did  they  ever  quarrel?" 

"People  say  not." 

"Then  wherefore  do  they  delay  the  wedding?" 

"That  is  the  mystery." 

This  was  the  mystery  which  puzzled  the  whole 
colony.  Mathew  learned  of  the  disappearance  of 
Billington  soon  after  his  return,  and  was  among 
the  first  to  note  the  great  change  that  was  produced 
in  Alice  and  her  mother.  One  day  while  walking 
with  Alice,  he  said: 

"Billington  will  never  come  back." 

A  cloud  swept  over  her  fair  face  as  she  an 
swered  : 

"Mother  says  he  will." 

"Why  does  she  think  so?" 

"  He  has  gone  away  so  often,  and  she  hoped  it 
was  forever;  but  he  always  returned." 

"  Bid  your  mother  never  fear,  Alice.  He  can 
do  her  no  harm.  The  poisonous  fangs  of  that 
human  reptile  have  been  drawn.  Since  his  bold 
attempt  on  my  life,  he  will  be  watched." 

She  grew  paler  as  he  recalled  the  attempted  as 
sassination,  and  with  a  shudder  exclaimed: 

"  He  may  yet  slay  you." 

"Fear  not,  Alice,"  he  responded  cheerfully. 
"We  are  emerging  from  a  state  of  barbarism  into 
a  glorious  state  of  civilization.  We  have  a  regular 
government  and  officers,  who  boldly  execute  the 


276  THE  PILGRIMS. 

laws.  He  cannot  harm  me.  The  fate  of  his  son 
will  be  a  standing  menace  to  him,  should  he  ever 
return,  which  I  do  not  believe  he  will  ever  dare  to 
do." 

From  discussing  Billington  and  his  disappearance, 
Mathew  began  once  more  to  plead  his  cause  with 
Alice.  "  Alice,  I  love  you  and  you  only,  as  my 
constancy  in  all  these  years  proves.  Our  sands  of 
life  are  running  out;  why  not  go  down  the  valley 
of  life  together?" 

Tears  welled  up  in  her  eyes  as  she  answered: 
"Not  yet;  I  cannot  consent  to  accept  the  name 
of  an  honorable  man,  while  mother  withholds  that 
secret." 

"If  you  knew  that  secret  would  you  wed  me?" 
"Could  I  lay  bare  my  whole  life's  history  and 
say,  'this  or  this  is  the  blot  on  my  name;  now 
you  know  all '  and   you  still  persisted  in  making 
me  your  wife,  I  would  consent." 

"  Your  mother  is  cruel  to  retain  the  secret." 
"Her  seeming  cruelty  may  be  kindness." 
"  No,  no.      Terrible  as  it  may  be,  the  reality  can 
not  equal  suspense  and  conjecture.     Has  she  prom 
ised  you  she  would  reveal  it?" 

"Indirectly;  but  she  puts  me  off." 

"She  must  tell!" 

"Must?" 

"Yes,    must,"  and  the  lines   on  his  face  were 


THE  MISCHIEF-MAKER.  277 

hard  and  firm.  "She  shall  tell  one  or  both. 
Our  lives  are  being  wasted  in  misery,  and  I  will 
know  what  the  blighting  secret  is  that  blasts  our 
happiness." 

"Shall  I  tell  her  this?" 

"  Tell  her  for  me  she  must  reveal  it  now.  We 
will  know  the  very  worst,"  he  declared  almost 
fiercely. 

Then  they  strolled  along  the  forest  path  in  si 
lence.  Their  resolution  was  formed  and  they  were 
happy.  Through  the  deep  green  vistas  where  the 
boughs  arched  overhead  and  showed  the  sunlight 
flashing  in  the  beautiful  perspective;  through  dewy 
fern,  from  which  the  startled  hare  leaped  and  fled 
at  their  approach;  by  mantled  pools  and  fallen 
trees,  and  down  in  hollow  places  rustling  among 
last  year's  leaves,  whose  scent  awoke  sad  memories 
of  the  past,  the  lovers  strolled.  By  meadow  gates 
and  fence  rows  fragrant  with  wild  flowers,  and  by 
thatched  cottages,  whose  inmates  looked  with  satis 
faction  on  the  pair  for  whom  the  whole  colony  was 
solicitous,  they  walked  in  tranquil  meditation.  The 
bee  passed  onward,  humming  of  the  work  it  had 
to  do;  the  idle  gnats  congregated  in  small  swarms, 
forever  going  round  and  round  in  one  contracting 
or  expanding  ring,  yet  seeming  to  keep  before 
them,  dancing  in  the  sunlight;  the  colors  of  the 
long  grass  came  and  went  as  if  the  light  clouds 


278  THE  PILGRIMS. 

floating  in  the  air  intimidated  it,  and  the  birds, 
seeming  to  partake  of  the  inward  joy  of  these  fond 
hearts,  sang  gayly,  sang  as  they  had  never  sung 
before.  When  within  sight  of  the  cottage,  Mathew 
stopped  and  said: 

"  I  will  go  no  farther.  The  matter  must  be  left 
wholly  with  you." 

"I  will  do  it,"  she  answered  firmly. 

"  Get  the  truth — the  whole  truth,  be  it  ever  so 
black  and  damning." 

"I  will." 

"Do  it  this  very  night." 

"That  I  shall." 

"  And  on  the  morrow,  when  I  hear  it  from  your 
lips,  I  will  show  you  quickly  that  I  live  not  in  the 
past,  but  the  present.  Be  the  stain  ever  so  black, 
I  will  say,  'Alice,  be  mine!'  ' 

She  raised  her  glad  eyes,  dimmed  with  joy,  to 
his  face;  her  heart  gave  a  wild  throb  of  hope,  and 
she  involuntarily  exclaimed: 

"0  Mathew!" 

He  sprang  to  her  side,  his  arm  encircled  her 
waist,  and  with  his  face  aglow  with  joy,  he  gasped: 

"Alice -" 

"No,  no;  wait  until  the  morrow,"  she  inter 
rupted,  gently  putting  him  aside.  "  For  the  pres 
ent,  adieu!" 

She  ran  away  up  the  hill,  and  paused  near  a 


THE  MISCHIEF-MAKER.  279 

gnarled  oak  to  look  back  at  him.  He  had  already 
turned  about  and  was  slowly  wending  his  way 
homeward.  Alice  was  still  several  rods  from  her 
cottage,  when  she  discovered  a  man  walking  rap 
idly  along  another  path  toward  it.  Involuntarily, 
she  clasped  her  hand  to  her  heart.  Her  breath 
grew  heavy  and  clogged,  and  she  clung  to  a  tree 
for  support.  That  man  she  would  know  in  any 
land  or  any  disguise. 

"He  has  returned!"  she  sobbed.  "Alas, 
mother's  predictions  are  true." 

His  clothes  were  old  and  faded,  and  his  beard 
long  and  white.  His  frame  was  slightly  bent  be 
neath,  the  weight  of  years.  One  feels  a  reverence 
for  a  gray-haired  saint,  blooming  for  heaven ;  but 
the  aged  sinner  is  so  repulsive  that  one  turns  from 
him  with  loathing  and  disgust.  There  was  noth 
ing  in  Francis  Billington,  old  and  white-haired 
though  he  had  grown,  calculated  to  inspire  respect. 
He  was  a  matured  devil  and  more  dangerous  in  his 
advancing  years  than  when  younger,  for  he  was 
nearer  to  his  master. 

"  He  has  returned  as  mother  said,"  Alice  gasped. 

Then,  moved  by  some  strange  impulse,  she  fol 
lowed  him  up  the  hill.  He  was  going  directly  to 
her  mother's  cottage.  Behind  the  green  arbor, 
near  enough  to  hear  all  that  would  be  said,  she 
paused.  He  halted  at  the  door  and  rapped.  Sarah 


280  THE  PILGRIMS. 

White  opened  the  door  and  started  back,  ex 
claiming: 

"Lord,  deliver  me!" 

There  was  a  strange  look  on  Billington's  face. 
It  was  no  longer  triumphant,  but  almost  melan 
choly.  He  leaned  against  the  side  of  the  door  and 
said: 

"I  have  seen  him." 

Sarah  White  wrung  her  hands,  and  breathed  a 
short  prayer. 

"He  lives,"  Billington  added  and,  turning 
slowly  about,  left  the  premises.  Lost  in  amaze 
ment  at  what  she  had  seen  and  heard,  Alice  could 
only  repeat: 

"  'I  have  seen  him.  lie  lives.'  '  Whom  had 
he  seen?  Who  lived?  She  would  have  given 
worlds  to  know.  Had  another  link  been  forged  in 
the  chain  of  fate  which  was  dragging  her  down  to 
misery?  The  sun  had  set,  and  the  sober  gray  of 
twilight  begun  to  envelope  the  earth,  before  she 
recovered  sufficiently  to  carry  out  the  resolution 
she  and  Mathew  had  formed. 

"I  will  go.  I  will  know  whom  lie  has  seen, 
and  who  lives.  It  is  a  duty  she  owes  me." 

Mathew  was  walking  slowly  homeward,  when  a 
step  near  by  startled  him.  Turning,  he  saw  a  man 
leaning  upon  a  stout  staff.  A  glance  at  his  repul- 


THE  MISCHIEF-MAKER.  281 

sive  face,  whitened  hair  and  beard,  and  he  knew 
him. 

"You  have  come  back,"  he  said. 

"Yes." 

"  Can  you  give  surety  for  future  good  behavior?" 

"  Fear  not,  Mathew ;  I  am  done  with  vengeance." 

"  Since  when  have  you  adopted  so  good  a  reso 
lution?" 

"Verily,  '  it  is  hard  to  kick  against  the  pricks.' 
He  who  raises  his  arm  in  rebellion  against  God, 
will  learn  in  the  end  that  he  has  fed  upon  the 
husks.  I  have  been  tossed  about  here  and  there, 
and  in  my  old  age  have  come  to  acknowledge  the 
goodness  of  God,  so  I  abide  his  decree,  hoping 
thereby  to  receive  mercy." 

"  'Tis  often  thus,"  Mathew  returned.  "Men  go 
through  life  in  defiance  of  their  Creator.  Their 
young  and  vigorous  days  are  spent  in  rebellion, 
and  when,  under  the  icy  blasts  of  age,  their  hair 
blooms  for  the  grave,  and  they  are  no  longer  ser 
viceable  to  Satan,  they  desert  him  and  return  to 
God.  Having  cheated  God  with  their  life,  they 
cheat  the  devil  in  death.  I  would  not  treat  even 
the  devil  so  meanly." 

"Be  not  too  hard  on  me,  Mathew.  Perchance 
there  may  be  some  good  in  me  yet." 

Mathew  had  no  confidence  in  his  pretended  re 
formation.  They  sat  upon  the  mossy  bank  of  the 


282  THE   PILGRIMS. 

brooklet,  whose  gentle  waters  rippled  over  the  peb 
bles  at  the  bottom.  A  squirrel  ran  nimbly  along 
the  path,  paused  a  moment  and,  rearing  itself  on 
its  hind  legs,  gazed  at  the  strangers,  then  frisked 
up  a  tree,  halting  at  the  fork  to  peep  saucily  at 
them.  Mathew  saw  it  not,  heard  not  the  mourn 
ful  song  of  the  streamlet,  for  his  thoughts  were 
on  the  man  before  him,  and  he  was  asking  himself 
what  new  diabolical  scheme  he  was  planning. 

Billington  at  last  broke  the  silence  by  asking: 

"  Mathew,  have  ye  a  brother?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Are  ye  a  Spaniard  by  birth?" 

"I  have  so  been  told." 

"Do  ye  know  where  ye  were  born?" 

"Probably  at  St.  Augustine,  Florida." 

"Are  yer  parents  living?" 

"I  know  not." 

"When  were  ye  brought  from  Florida?" 

"About  1586,  by  Sir  Francis  Drake.  What  is 
your  motive  in  these  questions?" 

"  Perchance  I  can  clear  up  some  of  the  mystery 
which  surrounds  yer  early  life." 

Mathew  had  no  faith  in  either  his  ability  to 
clear  up  the  mystery,  or  his  desire  to  do  so;  but 
there  was  nothing  in  his  past  life,  so  far  as  he 
knew,  to  conceal.  He  nodded,  and  Billington 
went  on: 


THE   MISCHIEF-MAKER.  283 

"  I  have  heard  that  there  lives  a  man  in  Virginia 
named  Stevens." 

"But  my  name  in  Spanish  was  Estevan." 

"So  was  his." 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"About  yer  own  age,  perchance  two  or  three 
years  older." 

"Is  he  of  Spanish  descent?" 

"He  is." 

"Do  you  know  his  full  name?" 

"Philip  Stevens,  or  Philip  Estevan." 

Mathew  gave  Billington  a  searching  glance, 
which  seemed  to  say,  "I  will  see  if  you  tell  me 
the  truth."  What  object  could  Billington  have  in 
telling  a  falsehood?  The  man  who  had  proved 
Mathew' s  enemy  met  his  gaze  unflinchingly  and 
continued: 

"The  source  from  whence  I  derive  my  informa 
tion  is  reliable.  While  in  New  Amsterdam,  I 
met  a  man,  who  had  been  for  several  months  in 
Jamestown,  Virginia,  and  he  informed  me  that 
there  lived  a  man  there  named  Philip  Stevens,  who 
was  born  in  St.  Augustine,  Florida." 

"Did  you  learn  anything  more  of  him?" 

"No." 

"It  may  be  my  brother  Philip,"  Mathew 
thought. 

Brother!     How   sweet   yet   strange   the    word 


284  THE  PILGRIMS. 

sounded  to  him  who  had  never  known  a  relative! 
He  had  no  recollection  of  his  captivity,  nor  of  his 
parents.  Often  since  he  had  been  told  the  story 
of  his  life  by  Mr.  Robinson,  he  had  thought  of 
his  brother  Philip  and  wished  that  they  might 
meet.  He  was  so  strongly  impressed  that  his  brother 
was  dead,  that  he  thought  if  there  lived  a  Philip 
Stevens  in  Virginia,  it  must  be  of  some  other 
family. 

Yet  his  brother  had  been  a  roving  sailor,  and 
nothing  was  more  probable  than  that  he  had  settled 
in  some  part  of  the  New  World.  Rising,  he  took  a 
step  nearer  to  Billington,  and  asked: 

"Have  you  told  me  the  truth,  or  was  this  story 
hatched  up,  to  raise  false  hopes?" 

"As  God  lives,  I  heard  the  story.  Whether  it 
be  true  or  false  I  cannot  say,"  Billington  answered. 

Mathew  went  home.  Entering  his  room,  his 
eyes  fell  on  the  quaint,  old-fashioned  chest.  Every 
time  he  entered  this  apartment  this  old  Spanish 
chest  had  met  his  eye,  until  it  ceased  to  be  an 
object  of  curiosity:  but  now  it  assumed  a  new  in 
terest  to  him. 

He  went  to  it  and  raised  the  lid.  The  lock  had 
been  broken  by  Sir  Francis  Drake  in  his  eagerness 
to  ascertain  its  contents. 

Many  strange  emotions  swayed  his  soul  as  he  ten 
derly  lifted  the  lid.  His  father  and  mother  had 


THE  MISCHIEF-MAKER. 


285 


once  touched  that  lid.     Were  they  living  or  dead? 
Stooping,  he  took  out  the  old  manuscript,  written 


f' 

STRANGE  EMOTIONS  SWAYED  HIS  SOUL  AS  HE  LIFTED  THE  LID. 

no  doubt  by  his  father  and,  gazing  on  the  old 
parchment  yellow  with  age,  said,  "Would  that  I 
could  read  it!  It  might  go  far  toward  unravelling 


286  THE   PILGRIMS. 

the  mystery  of  my  life."  As  he  carefully  put  it 
away,  he  added,  "The  first  Spaniard  that  lands  in 
New  England  shall  translate  it  for  me." 

He  closed  the  lid,  and  sat  writing  letters  until  a 
late  hour,  when  he  went  to  bed. 

While  Mathew  slept,  Alice  was  passing  through 
the  most  trying  ordeal  of  her  life.  On  entering 
the  house,  she  found  her  mother  more  agitated  than 
she  had  ever  been  before,  while  the  startled  look 
in  her  eyes  bordered  on  insanity.  She  said 
nothing  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  she  sud 
denly  paused  in  her  work  at  the  spinning-wheel 
and  asked: 

"Mother,  whom  had  he  seen?" 

Sarah  White  knew  that  she  referred  to  the  re 
mark  of  Billington,  and  answered: 

"Hush,  Alice." 

"Who  still  lives?" 

"Don't  ask  me  now,  Alice.  You  shall  know 
all  soon." 

"I  must  know  all  now,  mother." 

"In  God's  holy  name,  I  beseech  you  do  not 
seek  to  probe  that  secret  at  this  time." 

"Mother,  I  must,"  the  daughter  answered,  tears 
streaming  down  her  cheeks. 

"Wait." 

"I  have  waited;  I  have  waited  for  years.  I 
have  seen  the  blooming  hours  of  youth  flit  by  like 


THE   MISCHIEF-MAKER.  287 

larks  skimming  over  the  meadow.  I  have  seen 
children  grow  up  to  be  men  and  women.  My  young 
life  has  been  withered  and  blighted,  as  if  by  a 
curse.  It  shall  be  so  no  longer.  Mother,"  she 
concluded  fiercely,  "I  will  know  that  secret!" 

Her  mother  sank  into  a  chair  and  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands.  Though  she  trembled  from 
head  to  foot,  neither  sob  nor  groan  escaped  her 
throat.  Without  daring  to  look  on  the  face  of  her 
daughter,  she  murmured: 

"Alice,  it  is  for  you — spare  me!" 

"I  cannot.      I  will  not  spare  myself." 

"You  will  drive  me  mad — you  will  drive  me 
mad!" 

"  Your  silence  will  drive  me  mad.  Tell  me  that 
secret,  be  it  so  humiliating  that  I  bury  my  head  in 
the  dust.  Be  it  so  blighting  that  it  withers  as  the 
hottest  fire,  I  will  bear  it." 

"0  God,  help  me  to  change  this  mad  resolu 
tion  !  I  would  spare  her,  my  great  love  for  her 
would  spare  her." 

"Whom  has  Billington  seen,  mother?  Who 
lives?" 

"Ask  me  not." 

"I  will  ask  in  trumpet  tones,  until  I  get  your 
answer." 

"Would  you  kill  me?  Would  you  have  me 
hide  my  head  from  all  who  know  me?  Would  you 


288  THE  PILGRIMS. 

have  me  never  look  upon  the  face  of  my  own  child 
again?" 

"  Your  mystery  is  killing  me,  mother.  You  are 
blighting  my  happiness.  Tell  me,  be  the  secret 
ever  so  black.  If  you  have  crosses  I  will  help 
you  bear  them.  Let  me  know  all,  then  I  will  tell 
it  to  Mathew.  Who  knows  but  his  love  may  o'er- 
leap  any  chasm?" 

The  mother  rose  like  one  with  a  suddenly  formed 
resolution  and,  in  a  voice  that  was  strangely  calm, 
said: 

"Alice,  give  me  a  few  hours." 

"How  many?" 

"Until  morning." 

"Will  you  tell  me  then?" 

"Yes.  I  swore  I  would  never  breathe  his 
name;  but  I  will  seek  absolution  from  the  oath. 
You  shall  know  all  when  next  you.  see  me." 

"  Whose  name  did  you  swear  never  to  breathe — 
my  father's?" 

"Yes." 

"Was  he  a  villain?" 

"You  shall  judge." 

Alice  thought  nothing  of  her  mother's  words  at 
the  time;  but  subsequent  events  were  destined  to 
forcibly  recall  them  to  her  mind.  She  went  to 
bed,  and  in  the  hope  of  having  the  mystery  of 
years  unravelled  next  morning,  fell  asleep.  Her 


THE  MISCHIEF-MAKER.  289 

mother  did  not  retire,  and  when  Alice  slept 
soundly,  she  crept  to  the  bedside,  gazed  for  a  mo 
ment  on  her  face,  then,  falling  on  her  knees,  raised 
her  eyes  to  heaven  in  mute  appeal.  She  arose, 
•wrote  a  few  lines  on  a  slip  of  paper,  and  pinned  it 
to  the  pillow  of  the  sleeping  girl. 

This  done,  she  made  up  a  bundle  of  a  few  effects, 
put  on  her  stout  shoes,  her  hood  and  her  cloak. 
At  the  door  she  paused  a  moment,  went  back  and 
kissed  the  forehead  of  her  sleeping  daughter  and, 
burning,  quitted  the  house.  The  door  was  closed 
so  softly  that  the  sleeper  was  not  disturbed.  Once 
outside,  she  went  down  the  path,  crossed  the  ra 
vine,  and  went  up  the  hill  to  the  cabin  of  John 
Billington,  where  she  paused  and  rapped.  A  re 
pulsive  head  in  a  red  night-cap  was  poked  out  of 
the  window  near  the  door. 

"What  do  you  want?"  Billington  asked. 

"Where  did  you  see  him?" 

"At  New  Amsterdam." 

The  head  disappeared  within  the  house,  and  she 
hurried  away  into  the  forest. 
19 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

MARYLAND. 

Men,  who  their  duties  know, 
But  know  their  rights  and,  knowing,  dare  maintain  ; 

Prevent  the  long  aimed  blow, 
And  crush  the  tyrant,  while  they  rend  the  chain  ; 

These  constitute  a  State. 

— JONES. 

WHEN  Lord  Baltimore  found  the  Koman  Catho 
lics  in  England  suffering  from  the  persecutions  of 
the  Puritans  on  one  side,  who  were  daily  increas 
ing,  and  the  Churchmen  on  the  other,  he  piously 
decided  to  provide  for  them  an  asylum  in  America. 
When  he  sailed  in  the  summer  of  1627  for  Avalon, 
for  the  purpose  of  inspecting  in  person,  with  view 
to  planting  there,  the  nobleman  had  in  his  com 
pany  a  man  whose  appearance  and  address  were  cal 
culated  to  excite  the  attention  of  even  a  casual 
observer. 

He  had  the  singular  appearance  of  one  who  had 
all  his  life  been  engaged  in  a  fruitless  search.  He 
was  a  very  quiet  person,  and  was  scarcely  ever 
known  to  mingle  with  the  crowd.  He  was  past 

290 


MARYLAND.  291 

middle  age,  tall  and  graceful,  with  rather  thin, 
cadaverous  features.  His  blue  eyes  were  grave  and 
melancholy,  his  face  wore  an  expression  of  sadness, 
and  his  hair  was  silvered  almost  to  whiteness,  while 
his  well-trirnmed  beard  was  just  a  shade  darker 
than  his  hair. 

One  might,  from  his  gravity,  suspect  him  of 
being  a  priest;  then  his  erect  form  and  martial  bear 
ing  would  on  the  other  hand  indicate  the  soldier. 
He  was  a  man  of  wealth,  and  was  very  liberal  with 
his  money.  The  stranger  was  a  man  of  few  words, 
and  on  no  occasion  and  under  no  circumstance 
could  he  be  induced  to  speak  of  the  past.  It  was 
not  known  from  whence  he  had  come.  Although 
a  man  who  had  beyond  a  doubt  travelled  exten 
sively,  he  never  referred  to  the  countries  he  had 
seen.  This  singular  individual,  in  whom  Lord 
Baltimore  placed  the  greatest  confidence,  was  known 
as  Mr.  William  Roby.  There  was  an  unauthentic 
rumor  afloat  that  he  had  been  in  Flanders. 

Tradition  spoke  of  a  brave  Colonel  Roby,  who 
had  distinguished  himself  in  the  wars  in  Flanders. 
Captain  Miles  Standish  of  New  Plymouth  had 
once  met  him,  and  had  heard  many  stories  of  his 
gallant  deeds  during  the  wars.  It  was  not  known 
positively  whether  this  man  was  a  relative  of 
Colonel  Roby  or  not.  Once  a  fellow,  more  inquis 
itive  than  polite,  ventured  to  ask  him.  The  result 


292  THE   PILGRIMS. 

of  the  interview  was  never  known;  but  certainly 
it  was  not  satisfactory,  and  if  any  information  were 
gained  from  the  gloomy  stranger,  it  was  never  im 
parted.  Mr.  Roby  was  a  devout  Catholic.  Some 
said  that  he  was  a  widower,  others  that  he  had 
never  been  married,  while  still  others  hinted  that 
he  had  been  a  polygamist,  having  a  dozen  wives 
in  different  parts  of  the  world. 

In  the  year  1627,  this  mysterious  man  sailed 
with  Lord  Baltimore  in  a  ship  which  carried  twenty 
cannon  as  a  protection  against  the  French.  A  few 
friends  and  some  priests  accompanied  them.  After 
remaining  a  few  months  at  Avalon,  they  returned 
to  England,  and  the  next  spring,  when  Lord  Balti 
more  sailed  for  New  Foundland  with  his  second 
wife  and  all  his  children,  excepting  those  married, 
William  Roby,  who  had  earned  the  soubriquet  of 
the  "silent  man,"  went  with  him.  The  winter 
which  followed  was  so  severe,  that  next  spring 
Baltimore  sent  his  children  home  and,  with  his 
wife,  Roby  and  several  friends,  sailed  to  Virginia, 
arriving  at  Jamestown  in  October.  When  Balti 
more  appeared  before  Governor  Harvey  and  his 
council  and  was  asked  what  was  his  purpose  in 
Virginia,  he  answered: 

"To  plant  and  dwell." 

"Will  you  take  the  oath,  which  we  have  taken?" 
asked  the  governor. 


NORTH  AMERICA 

PERIOD    1620  TO  1643 


MARYLAND.  293 

"I  cannot  with  a  good  conscience,"  was  Balti 
more's  answer. 

"Then  you  must  leave  on  the  first  ship  hence 
for  England,"  Governor  Harvey  declared. 

A  scene  followed  that  was  simply  disgraceful. 
One  of  the  Virginia  cavaliers  named  Thomas  Tin- 
dan  called  Lord  Baltimore  a  liar  and  threatened  to 
knock  him  down.  The  fellow  was  sent  to  the  pil 
lory  for  the  insult.  Cruel  as  was  the  order  to  leave 
the  country,  Lord  Baltimore  was  forced  to  obey  it. 
Permission  was  gained  for  him  to  leave  his  wife 
and  relatives  at  Jamestown,  until  he  could  secure 
a  locality  to  settle  them  in.  In  the  care  of  Mr. 
William  Roby,  who  had  decided  to  wait  at  James 
town,  he  left  his  wife  until  he  should  return. 
During  his  stay  at  Jamestown,  Roby  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  Philip  Stevens,  a  stout  young 
colonist,  for  whom,  in  his  cold  way,  he  entertained 
an  attachment.  Though  Philip  talked  quite  freely 
of  his  own  past  life,  Roby  was  silent  as  to  his. 
Occasionally  he  asked  Philip  a  question.  Those 
questions  were  asked  at  great  intervals  apart,  and 
were  couched  in  studied  language  which  required 
full  explanations.  The  questions  usually  were 
about  some  English  family.  Philip,  though  a 
Spaniard  by  birth,  had  been  long  enough  in  Eng 
land  to  know  something  of  its  people;  but  the 
silent  man's  shrewdest  questions,  failed  to  elicit  the 


294  THE   PILGRIMS. 

desired  information.  Mr.  Eoby  still  continued  his 
search.  Search,  search,  search.  He  had  sought 
the  earth  over,  and  his  task  was  not  yet  accom 
plished. 

In  1630,  Lord  Baltimore  returned,  bringing  with 
him  a  patent  from  King  Charles  for  a  territory 
south  of  the  James  River,  for  the  rigors  of  the  cli 
mate,  the  barrenness  of  the  soil  of  Avalon,  and  the 
menaces  of  the  French,  had  caused  him  to  aban 
don  his  domain  in  New  Foundland.  The  Virginia 
Company  made  so  much  opposition  to  his  new 
charter,  that  Baltimore  was  induced  to  surrender  it 
and  accept  one  for  territory  north  and  east  of  the  Po 
tomac,  embracing  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  which  he 
had  previously  explored. 

This  change  necessitated  another  return  to  Eng 
land.  Again  he  left  his  wife  and  a  few  of  his 
friends  in  Virginia,  and  hastened  back  to  confer 
with  the  king.  Lord  Baltimore  wanted  to  call  the 
newly  chartered  domain  Crescendia;  but,  in  defer 
ence  to  the  king,  when  the  charter  was  drawn  up, 
the  space  for  the  name  was  left  blank  that  his  maj  - 
esty  might  fill  it  as  he  pleased.  When  Baltimore 
appeared  before  Charles  to  receive  his  signature  to 
the  document,  the  monarch  asked: 

"What  will  you  name  the  country?" 

"I  have  referred  the  matter  to  your  majesty," 
answered  Baltimore. 


MARYLAND.  295 

"  Then  let  us  name  it  for  the  queen.  What  do 
you  think  of  Mariana?" 

The  expert  courtier  answered : 

"I  would  not  like  that  name,  your  majesty,  for 
it  is  the  name  of  the  Spanish  historian  who  taught 
the  dangerous  heresy  that  the  will  of  the  people  is 
higher  than  the  law  of  tyrants.  I  do  not  care  to 
perpetuate  his  name." 

The  king,  still  disposed  to  compliment  his  queen, 
reflected  a  moment  and  said: 

"Let  it  be  Terra  Maria."  (Mary  Land.)  So 
it  was  that  in  the  charater  the  province  was  named 
Maryland,  in  honor  of  Queen  Henrietta  Mary. 
The  charter  was  prepared;  but  before  the  great 
seal  of  England  was  affixed  to  it,  Lord  Baltimore 
suddenly  died  in  London.  His  son  Cecil,  Lord 
Baltimore,  falling  heir  to  his  estates  and  titles,  a 
few  months  after  received  the  charter,  which  bore 
the  date  June  20th,  1632.  The  territory  covered 
by  the  patent  extended  along  each  side  of  the 
Chesapeake  Bay,  from  the  fortieth  degree  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Potomac  and  westward  along  the  line 
of  that  river. 

The  Maryland  charter  was  probably  drawn  up 
by  the  first  Lord  Baltimore.  It  was  evidently 
copied  substantially  from  the  one  granted  by 
Charles  to  his  attorney-general,  Sir  Kobert  Heath, 
for  Carolinia,  a  territory  south  of  the  Roanoke 


296  THE   PILGRIMS. 

River.  No  monarch  nor  monopolist  had  yet  ex 
tended  such  great  democratic  privileges  as  were 
given  in  the  Maryland  charter.  The  territory  was 
declared  "out  of  the  plentitude  of  royal  power;  " 
the  people  were  exempt  from  taxation  by  the  crown, 
except  by  their  own  consent,  and  other  important 
privileges  were  secured  to  them.  It  silently  toler 
ated  all  religious  sects.  While  it  directed  the 
dedication  and  consecration  of  "churches,  chapels, 
and  places  of  worship,"  in  accordance  with  the 
prescription  of  the  ecclesiastical  laws  of  England, 
the  matter  of  state  theology  was  left  untouched  and 
within  the  legislative  powers  of  the  colonists  them 
selves.  This  toleration  was  a  wise  provision.  It 
promoted  the  growth  of  the  colony  when  it  was 
established,  for  those  who  were  persecuted  by  the 
Puritans  of  New  England  and  the  Churchmen  of 
Virginia  found  in  Maryland  a  place  of  refuge  and 
peace.  The  charter  provided  that  the  proprietary 
should  have  "free,  full  and  absolute  powers  to 
enact  all  laws  necessary  for  the  common  good ;  not, 
however,  without  the  advice,  consent  and  appro 
bation  of  the  freemen  of  the  province  or  their  rep 
resentatives  convoked  in  general  assembly."  This 
was  the  first  time  any  provision  had  been  made  in 
an  American  patent  for  securing  to  the  citizen  a 
share  in  legislation. 

With  this  charter  young  Lord  Baltimore  set  sail 


MARYLAND.  297 

from  England  to  colonize  his  domain,  not  so  much 
as  an  asylum  for  his  persecuted  co-religionists,  as 
to  secure  pecuniary  gain  to  himself.  He  appointed 
his  half-brother,  Leonard  Calvert,  governor,  and 
on  the  22d  of  November,  1633,  that  kinsman  with 
his  brother,  "  with  very  near  twenty  other  gentle 
men  of  very  good  fashion  and  three  hundred  la 
boring  men,"  sailed  from  Cowes,  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  in  two-  ships,  The  Ark  and  The  Dove. 
Some  of  the  gentlemen  and  laboring  men  as  well 
were  Roman  Catholics;  but  by  far  the  greater  por 
tion  of  the  laboring  men  were  Protestants,  who 
took  the  oath  of  supremacy  before  leaving  Eng 
land.  Two  Jesuit  priests,  Fathers  Andrew  White 
and  John  Altham,  accompanied  t  e  emigrants. 
Religious  services  were  performed  just  as  they  were 
on  the  point  of  departure.  A  gentle  east  wind 
was  blowing,  and,  "committing  themselves  to  the 
protection  of  God  especially,  and  His  most  Holy 
Mother  and  St.  Ignatius  and  all  the  guardian  angels 
of  Maryland,"  they  set  sail. 

For  some  unknown  reason,  the  colonists  took 
the  tedious  southern  route  by  way  of  the  Canaries 
and  West  Indies.  The  perils  of  the  Needles  on 
the  coast  of  the  Isle  of  Wight  were  passed,  when 
they  were  chased  by  a  Turkish  cruiser,  then  the 
dread  of  all  Christian  seamen.  But  they  fell  in 
with  a  large  English  merchantman,  called  The 


298  THE  PILGRIMS. 

Dragon,  which,  was  well  armed,  and  it  drove  away 
the  Turkish  pirate  and  convoyed  them  beyond  the 
danger  line.  Two  days  later  they  were  overtaken 
by  a  furious  gale.  The  Dragon  was  forced  to  turn 
back,  and  the  emigrant  vessels  went  forward  alone. 
With  the  approach  of  night  the  tempest  increased. 
The  Dove  was  the  smaller  and  weaker  of  the  two 
vessels,  and  great  apprehensions  were  entertained 
for  the  vessel  and  its  passengers.  They  notified 
the  officers  of  The  Ark  that  in  case  of  danger  they 
would  hang  out  a  lantern  at  the  masthead.  That 
signal  of  distress  appeared  about  midnight,  and 
for  a  few  minutes  the  light  could  be  seen  rocking 
and  swaying  with  the  motion  of  the  waves;  then 
it  suddenly  vanished.  "All  are  lost!"  thought 
the  tenants  of  The  Ark,  and  "they  grieved  sorely." 
They  had  no  doubt  that  The  Dove  was  at  rest  at 
the  bottom  of  the  sea,  with  all  on  board. 

For  three  terrible  days  the  tempest  swept  the 
ocean,  and  then  the  storm  culminated  in  a  most 
terrific  rain-storm  and  hurricane,  which  threatened 
the  destruction  of  all  in  its  path.  It  seemed  as  if 
"all  the  malicious  spirits  of  the  storm  and  all  the 
evil  genii  of  Maryland  had  come  forth  to  battle  " 
and  sink  the  ship.  Master,  passengers  and  crew 
gave  themselves  up  for  lost,  and  well  they  might. 
Their  mainsail  was  split  from  top  to  bottom,  the 
rudder  was  unshipped,  and  the  vessel  was  at  the 


MARYLAND.  299 

mercy  of  the  wind  and  waves.  In  mortal  dread, 
the  passengers  had  recourse  to  the  only  comfort 
that  never  fails,  prayer.  Falling  on  their  knees, 
they  prayed.,  and  the  Eoman  Catholics  uttered 
vows  in  honor  of  "the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  and 
her  Immaculate  Conception,  of  St.  Ignatius,  the 
patron  saint  of  Maryland,  St.  Michael,  and  all  the 
guardian  angels  of  the  same  country."  Father 
White,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  wrote  of  this  trying 
event: 

"  I  had  taken  myself  to  prayer  when  the  sea  was 
raging  its  worst,  and  (may  this  be  to  the  glory  of 
God)  I  had  scarcely  finished,  when  they  observed 
that  the  storm  was  abating."  The  storm  abated 
and  for  three  months  the  voyagers  had  delightful 
weather,  although  nothing  was  seen  of  The  Dove. 

After  the  tempest,  The  Ark  steered  for  Bonavista, 
one  of  the  Cape  Verde  islands,  but  altered  her 
course  and  entered  the  harbor  of  the  island  of 
Barbadoes,  on  the  eastern  verge  of  the  Antilles, 
where  her  people,  all  regarded  as  Roman  Catholics, 
were  coldly  received  and  charged  extravagant  prices 
for  the  provisions  they  were  compelled  to  purchase. 
While  here,  they  learned  that  they  had  narrowly 
escaped  a  Spanish  fleet  lying  at  Bonavista,  and 
also  another  peril  in  the  port  at  which  they  had 
arrived.  The  slaves  on  the  island,  driven  to  des 
peration  by  cruelty,  had  conspired  to  murder  their 


300  THE   PILGRIMS. 

masters,  seize  the  first  ship  that  should  appear,  and 
put  to  sea.  The  conspiracy  had  just  been  dis 
covered  and  the  ringleaders  hung.  Further  joy 
awaited  them,  for  they  were  scarcely  well  in  port, 
when  The  Dove,  after  a  six  weeks'  separation,  re 
turned  to  The  Ark.  In  the  terrible  gale,  finding 
she  could  not  weather  the  storm,  she  had  put  back 
and  taken  refuge  in  the  Scilly  Isles,  from  whence 
she  sailed  as  soon  as  the  weather  would  permit  in 
search  of  her  consort. 

After  a  short  sojourn  at  Barbadoes,  the  emi 
grants  left,  passed  several  islands  of  the  Antilles, 
near  one  of  which  they  encountered  canoes  full  of 
naked  and  painted  cannibals,  and  late  in  February 
they  sailed  in  between  the  capes  of  Virginia. 
They  touched  at  Point  Comfort  and  then  went  up 
toward  Jamestown,  where  royal  letters,  borne  bjr 
Calvert,  secured  for  them  a  friendl}7  reception  from 
Governor  Harvey. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  some  of  the  elder 
Lord  Baltimore's  people  had  been  left  in  James 
town,  and  among  them  was  the  man  William  Roby. 
Mysterious,  silent  and  melancholy,  he  had  been 
wandering  about  the  colony  from  town  to  town,  as 
if  engaged  in  a  search  for  some  one.  Whenever 
a  new  vessel  came  into  port,  he  was  the  first  at  the 
quay,  "scanning  the  faces  of  the  passengers  as  if 
trying  to  discover  some  particular  person ;  but  in- 


MARYLAND.  301 

variably,  after  he  had  seen  all  debark,  he  turned 
away  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment.  He  had 
made  his  home  with  Philip  Stevens  while  in  Vir 
ginia.  Here  the  mysterious  man  received  the 
kindest  treatment,  which  in  his  way  he  appreciated. 
Although  he  had  been  called  the  silent  man,  he 
really  was  not  silent,  save  as  to  his  own  past  life. 
Of  other  people  he  frequently  talked,  though  he 
said  nothing  of  himself. 

One  day  he  stood  on  the  quay  watching  a  ship 
load  of  immigrants  disembark,  and  Philip  Stevens 
was  near  him  noting  the  curious  interest  he  mani 
fested.  When  all  had  landed,  he  turned  away, 
heaving  his  usual  sigh  and  saying: 

"Forever  doomed  to  disappointment." 

"Were  you  expecting  some  one?"  Philip  asked. 

Philip  meant  no  offence  by  his  question ;  but  the 
eyes  of  Mr.  Roby  flashed  fire,  and  he  glared  at  him 
much  as  a  miser  might  at  a  thief  who  had  caught 
him  counting  his  gold. 

"  I  meant  no  offence,  Mr.  Roby,"  Philip  hastened 
to  explain. 

"Did  you  hear  me  say  anything?"  Roby 
asked. 

"You  said  you  were  disappointed." 

"Did  I  say  I  expected  any  one?" 

"No;  or  I  should  not  have  asked  you;  but 
your  look  and  manner  did  indicate  it." 


302  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"Think  nothing  about  it;  I  expected  no  one," 
and,  with  a  great  effort  to  regain  his  self-posses 
sion,  he  hurried  away. 

"Marry!"  quoth  Philip,  "but  our  friend  is 
strange." 

"He  is  wrong  here,"  said  Alexander  Bradwaye, 
pointing  to  his  forehead  and  shaking  his  snow-white 
locks.  Philip,  who  had  heard  the  remark  of  the 
old  man,  turned  to  him  and  answered: 

"No,  he  is  mysterious,  that  is  all." 

"Where  did  he  come  from?"  asked  Brad 
waye. 

"  He  came  with  the  first  Lord  Baltimore,  who 
died  some  months  since." 

"Where  was  he  before  he  joined  Lord  Balti 
more?" 

"No  one  knows,"  Philip  answered.  "He  is  a 
man  without  a  past." 

"A  man  without  a  past,"  repeated  the  old  col 
onist,  removing  his  hat  and  passing  his  hand  over 
his  bald  head.  "  Yea,  verily,  there  may  be  some 
thing  in  his  past  which  he  doth  not  care  to  have 
people  know.  A  man  without  a  past  hath  a  dark 
past  that  he  would  conceal." 

"I  know  not  what  his  motives  are;  yet  he  is  a 
man  of  sound  discretion,  and  good  morals." 

"What  religion?" 

"A  Catholic." 


MARYLAND.  303 

Bradwaye,  who  hated  Catholics,  muttered: 

"Marry!  There  is  no  discretion  or  good  morals 
among  papists." 

"Don't  say  that,  Bradwaye.  My  father  is  a 
papist  and  so  were  all  my  ancestors.  Trace  your 
own  back  a  few  generations,  and  you  will  also  find 
papists  among  them." 

"Zounds!  what  you  say  is  true,  friend  Philip; 
yet  it  makes  it  none  the  less  a  crime  to  be  a  papist 
in  this  age  of  reason." 

Knowing  the  peculiarities  of  his  old  friend, 
Philip  Stevens  did  not  seek  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  him,  but  hastened  away  to  find  Mr.  Koby  and 
assure  him  that  he  had  not  intended  to  offend  him. 
He  did  not  find  him,  and  that  evening,  when  he 
failed  to  return  to  the  house,  he  began  to  feel  some 
uneasiness  about  him.  He  went  to  a  Catholic 
priest,  who  had  come  with  Lord  Baltimore,  and 
asked  him  if  he  had  seen  Mr.  Eoby. 

"I  have  not,  my  son;  but  I  believe  that  he  will 
come  back.  He  hath  a  peculiar  malady  of  seeking 
seclusion  at  times." 

Comforted  by  this  assurance,  Philip  went  home 
and  gave  him  no  more  serious  thought.  Two  or 
three  days  later  Mr.  Eoby  returned.  There  was 
no  change  in  his  manner.  A  few  days  after  his 
return,  he  asked  Philip: 

"  Have  you  any  relatives  besides  your  father?" 


304  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"I  suppose  I  have,  though  I  know  not  to  a  cer 
tainty." 

"A  brother  or  a  sister?" 

"A  brother." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"He  was  at  Leyden,  Holland,  with  the  Puritans; 
but  I  have  since  heard  that  he  emigrated  to  New 
England." 

"New  England,"  Mr.  Roby  repeated  slowly. 
Then,  in  an  absent-minded  sort  of  way,  he  added : 
"I  have  never  been  there  yet.  Is  he  a  Puritan?" 

"Such  probably  was  his  training." 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"Mathew." 

"Mathew  Stevens?" 

"Mathew  Stevens,  or  Mattheo  Estevan;  such  is 
our  name  in  Spanish." 

"Have  you  ever  written  to  him?" 

"  No.  My  father  and  I  contemplated  a  visit  to 
Plymouth  in  order  to  make  search  for  him,  when 
father  met  with  an  accident.  The  Indian  war 
broke  out,  and  we  have  not  been  able  to  make  the 
voyage,  though  probably  we  shall  do  so  next  year." 

Though  Mr.  Roby  seemed  to  take  the  keenest 
interest  in  the  history  of  everybody  else,  he  kept  a 
strict  silence  as  to  himself,  and  when  Calvert  en 
tered  the  James  River  to  take  the  immigrants  away 
to  their  territory,  the  good  people  of  Jamestown 


MARYLAND.  305 

knew  as  little  about  him  as  when  he  first  came  to 
the  colony. 

Nine  days  Cal vert  tarried  at  Jamestown  and  then 
sailed  for  the  Chesapeake,  entering  the  broad  mouth 
of  the  Potomac  River.  The  emigrants  were  de 
lighted  with  the  great  stream  and  the  beautiful 
scenery  along  the  shore,  and  gave  it  the  name  of 
St.  Gregory,  in  honor  of  the  canonized  Pope  of 
that  name. 

"Never  have  I  beheld  a  larger  or  more  beautiful 
river,"  wrote  Father  White.  "  The  Thames  seems 
a  mere  rivulet  in  comparison  with  it.  It  is  not  dis 
figured  by  swamps,  but  has  firm  land  on  each  side. 
Fine  groves  of  trees  appear,  not  choked  with  briers, 
or  bushes,  or  undergrowth,  but  growing  at  inter 
vals,  as  if  planted  by  man,  so  you  can  drive  a  four- 
horse  carriage  wherever  you  choose,  through  the 
midst  of  the  trees.  Just  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
we  saw  the  natives  in  arms.  That  night  fires  blazed 
throughout  the  whole  country,  and  since  they  had 
never  seen  so  large  a  ship,  messengers  were  sent  in 
all  directions,  who  reported  that  a  canoe  like  an 
island  had  come  with  as  many  men  as  there  were 
trees  in  the  woods." 

They  sailed  up  the  river  to  Heron  Islands,  and 

on  Blackstone  (which  they  called  St.  Clement's) 

they  landed  at  a  little  past  the  middle  of  March. 

The  air  was  balmy  and  sweet  with  opening  spring 

20 


306  THE  PILGRIMS. 

flowers,  and  birds  were  filling  the  groves  with  their 
melodies.  The  shy  natives  one  by  one  came  to 
them,  and  the  kindness  of  the  English  disarmed 
all  their  hostility.  There,  on  the  feast  of  the  An 
nunciation  (March  25th),  the  priests,  in  full  can 
onical  robes,  performed  religious  services  and  ad 
ministered  the  Lord's  Supper  for  the  first  time  in 
all  that  savage  region.  The  whole  company  fol 
lowed  Calvert  and  the  priests  in  procession,  bearing 
a  huge  cross  which  they  had  fashioned  from  a  tree, 
and  planted  the  symbol  of  Christianity  and  civili 
zation  at  a  chosen  spot.  The  Roman  Catholic 
members  on  bended  knees  recited  the  "Litanies  of 
the  Sacred^ Cross,"  according  to  the  Italian  ritual. 

In  the  forest  shadows,  wondering  spectators  of 
the  strange  scene,  stood  groups  of  savage  men, 
women  and  children,  clad  in  scanty  and  picturesque 
garments,  with  their  emperor  and  his  queen.  He 
was  at  the  head  of  a  tribe  called  the  Piscataways, 
and  ruled  over  several  smaller  chiefs.  Calvert 
paid  a  visit  to  this  dusky  emperor  to  make  a  treaty 
of  friendship  and  secure  his  influence  over  sur 
rounding  tribes  in  favor  of  the  colonists.  In  The 
Dove  and  another  pinnace  which  they  had  brought 
from  Jamestown,  the  governor  of  the  colony,  with 
Father  Altham  and  a  part  of  the  immigrants,  sailed 
up  the  river,  leaving  The  Ark  at  anchor.  Indians 
came  from  the  woods  to  peep  at  them  and  fled  in 


THE   WHOLE    COMPANY   FOLLOWED   ( ALVERT    AM)    THE    PHIE8TS  IX   PROCESSION. 


MARYLAND.  307 

alarm.  At  a  village  near  Mount  Vernon,  ruled 
over  by  a  youthful  chief,  they  landed.  The  fears 
of  the  Indians  were  soon  overcome,  and  Father 
Altham,  through  an  interpreter  they  had  brought 
from  Jamestown  for  the  purpose,  explained  that 
the  object  of  their  coming  was  to  teach  the  Indians 
to  lead  better  lives,  and  to  live  with  them  as 
brothers.  The  young  sachem's  uncle,  who  ruled 
as  regent,  welcomed  them  saying: 

"We  will  use  one  table.  My  people  shall  hunt 
lor  my  pale-face  brothers,  and  all  things  shall  be 
in  common  between  us." 

Pleased  with  this  peaceful  conquest,  the  colonists 
went  on  to  Piscataway,  where  five  hundred  war 
riors  were  drawn  up  to  dispute  their  landing;  but 
the  Indians  were  pacified,  and  readily  gave  them 
permission  to  settle  anywhere  within  the  empire 
near  or  distant.  Calvert  thought  it  better  to  form 
their  settlement  near  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac. 

Calvert  next  explored  the  Wicomico  River,  which 
emptied  into  another  (which  they  called  the  St. 
George)  twelve  miles  upward,  and  anchored  at  an 
Indian  village.  Here  the  sachem  gave  the  gov 
ernor  his  mat  to  sleep  on.  Pleased  with  the  situa 
tion,  the  soil  and  forest  growth,  he  determined  to 
plant  his  first  settlement  there  and  make  Wicomico 
the  capital.  Although  Calvert  had  a  delegated 
power  to  take  possession  of  the  country  by  force, 


308  THE  PILGRIMS. 

he  preferred  to  procure  it  by  treaty  and  purchase, 
so  for  some  English  cloth,  axes,  hoes,  rakes, 
knives  and  trinkets  of  little  value  for  the  women, 
he  purchased  thirty  miles  of  territory  including  the 
village  and  named  the  domain  Augusta  Carolinia. 

On  the  27th  of  March,  1634,  Calvert  took  for 
mal  possession  of  the  territory.  The  vessels  came 
from  St.  Clement's  with  the  remainder  of  the  im 
migrants,  and  the  cannon  fired  a  salute  at  the  ter 
mination  of  their  weary  wanderings.  They  erected 
a  fort,  laid  out  the  town  of  St.  Mary's  and  began 
to  build.  The  Indians  assisted  them  as  well  as 
they  could. 

Governor  Harvey  of  Virginia  shortly  afterward 
paid  them  a  visit  and  was  received  aboard  The 
Ark.  The  king  of  Patuxent  was  invited  to  their 
interview  and,  while  banqueting  with  the  officers, 
said: 

"I  love  the  English  so  well,  that,  if  they  went 
about  to  kill  me,  and  I  had  so  much  breath  as  to 
speak,  I  would  command  the  people  not  to  avenge 
my  death;  for  I  know  they  would  do  no  such 
thing,  except  it  were  through  mine  own  fault." 

These  settlers  were  exempt  from  the  distresses 
which  had  befallen  the  earlier  immigrants  in  other 
colonies.  The  surrounding  native  inhabitants 
were  friendly;  they  had  a  genial  climate;  general 
good  health  prevailed;  they  had  abundance  of 


MARYLAND.  309 

food,  and  the  soil  yielded  bountifully  with  moder 
ate  tillage.  They  were  vested  with  peculiar  privi 
leges;  were  not  hampered  by  ecclesiastical  restric 
tions,  and  a  year  after  they  had  established  the 
capital  at  St.  Mary's,  a  legislative  assembly,  com 
posed  of  the  whole  people,  a  purely  democratic 
legislature,  convened  there.  As  their  numbers 
increased  by  immigration,  this  method  of  legisla 
tion  was  found  inconvenient,  and,  in  1639,  a  rep 
resentative  government  was  established,  the  people 
being  allowed  to  send  as  many  representatives  as 
they  saw  fit.  Thus  was  commenced  the  common 
wealth  of  Maryland. 

Mr.  William  Roby,  the  man  "without  a  past," 
located  at  St.  Mary's.  He  became  an  Indian 
trader,  and  soon  accumulated  a  fortune  in  furs. 
He  penetrated  the  forests  to  the  most  distant  towns 
and  entered  the  Dutch  settlements,  still  preserving 
his  taciturn  manner,  and  the  habit  of  searching; 
as  if  he  expected  to  find  some  person  whom  he  had 
not  seen  for  years. 

At  New  Amsterdam  he  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  Hans  Van  Brunt.  He  grew  to  like  the  honest, 
kind-hearted  Dutchman.  In  conversation  with 
him  one  day,  he  told  him  of  the  Philip  Stevens  at 
Jamestown.  Hans,  in  turn,  told  of  Mathew  Ste 
vens  at  Plymouth,  and  thus  a  conversation  sprang 
up  between  them,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  they 


310  THE  PILGRIMS. 

decided  that  the  two  must  be  the  long-separated 
brothers.  After  the  conversation  was  over,  Mr. 
Roby  went  to  the  public  house,  and  Hans  then  re 
membered  that  there  was  a  man  in  the  village 
named  Billington,  who  had  just  come  from  Ply 
mouth.  He  also  remembered  that  he  had  met  Bil 
lington  once  in  Plymouth,  and  that  he  had  asked 
some  strange  questions  concerning  Mr.  Roby.  He 
was  not  much  acquainted  with  Billington,  and  was 
not  favorably  impressed  with  the  man;  but  as  he 
was  so  recently  from  Plymouth  and  no  doubt  knew 
all  about  Mathew  Stevens,  he  determined  to  have 
him  meet  Mr.  Roby.  He  found  him  and  told  him 
the  strange  story  of  Philip  Stevens  in  Virginia. 

"He  must  be  Mathew's  brother,"  said  Billing 
ton.  "  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  it.  I  would  like 
to  see  him." 

Hans  volunteered  to  show  him  to  the  stranger, 
whose  name  he  had  not  as  yet  spoken.  They 
walked  down  the  street  of  the  little  Dutch  hamlet, 
until  they  came  in  sight  of  the  stranger,  sitting  in 
a  large  arm-chair.  He  was  lost  in  thought,  with 
his  eyes  on  the  ground  and  did  not  look  up. 
Billington  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  face  and  ex 
claiming,  "It  is  Roby!"  beat  a  retreat  and  was 
never  again  seen  in  New  Amsterdam.  Billington 
hastened  back  to  New  Plymouth,  which  colony  he 
reached  as  narrated  in  the  preceding  chapter. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

SEEKIXPr    THE    LOST. 

All  thoughts,  all  passions,  all  delights, 
Whatever  stirs  this  mortal  frame, 

All  are  but  ministers  of  love, 
And  feed  his  sacred  flame. 

—COLERIDGE. 

NEXT  morning,  after  his  strange  interview  with 
Billington,  Mathew  Stevens  was  awakened  from  a 
peaceful  slumber,  by  some  one  rapping  at  the  door 
of  his  room. 

"Who  is  there?"  he  asked,  starting  up  in  bed. 

"It  is  I,"  Mrs.  Brewster  answered.  "Alice 
White  wants  to  see  you  immediately." 

Had  he  been  informed  that  the  Angel  Gabriel 
was  waiting,  Mathew  would  not  have  been  more 
dumfounded.  With  a  vague  feeling  that  some 
thing  had  gone  amiss,  he  hurriedly  dressed  and 
hastened  to  the  sitting-room,  where  he  found  the 
girl,  her  face  pale  as  death  and  her  eyes  red  with 
weeping. 

"Alice,  what  has  happened?"  he  asked. 

"She  is  gone!"  was  the  answer. 
311 


312  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"Gone!  who  has  gone?" 

"Mother." 

"Dead!"  he  cried,  filled  with  horror. 

"No,  no;  she  has  left  home,"  and  for  further 
explanations  she  handed  him  a  slip  of  paper, 
adding: 

"I  found  that  pinned  to  my  pillow." 

He  took  the  paper  and  read: 

ALICE,  MY  DEAR  DAUGHTER; 

You  insist  on  knowing  the  secret,  and  I  have  answered 
that  you  shall.  I  am  gone  on  a  journey  into  the  wilder 
ness,  and  when  I  return,  I  shall,  I  hope,  be  able  to  make 
the  revelation  less  heavy  than  it  would  otherwise  have 
been.  Abide  in  the  faith  of  God,  and  should  your  mother 
perish,  or  never  return,  believe  that  she  loved  you,  and 
that  she  was  never  knowingly  guilty  of  sin.  May  God 
bless  you  and  always  have  you  in  His  keeping  ;  this  is  my 
prayer. 

YOUR  MOTHER. 

Mathew  stared  at  the  strange  missive  as  if  it  had 
been  dropped  from  the  heavens.  He  was  bewil 
dered,  his  head  swam,  arid  he  clutched  the  table 
for  support. 

"We  did  it!"  was  the  thought  which  crashed 
like  a  bomb  through  his  brain.  "  We  did  it!  Our 
persistence  in  knowing  the  mystery  has  driven  her 
mad."  But  with  all  the  strength  of  his  wonderful 
will,  he  controlled  his  emotions  and,  in  a  voice  of 
forced  calmness  asked: 


SEEKING    THE  LOST.  313 

"When  did  this  happen?" 

"Last  night." 

"At  what  hour?" 

"I  know  not.  While  I  was  buried  in  slumber, 
she  wrote  this  and  stole  away  from  the  house." 

"It  was  early  in  the  night."  Mathew  began  to 
think  and  plan.  He  sat  down  and  for  a  moment 
held  his  head  between  his  hands.  Mrs.  Brewster, 
realizing  that  it  was  a  matter  that  must  be  settled 
by  Mathew  and  Alice,  considerately  left  the  room. 
After  a  short  silence  he  asked: 

"Alice,  did  your  mother  see  Billington  yester 
day?" 

"She  did." 

"Do  you  know  what  words  passed  between 
them?" 

She  recounted  what  she  had  heard,  and  how  she 
had  urged  her  mother  to  explain  the  meaning  of 
those  mysterious  sentences,  "I  have  seen  him!" 
and  "He  lives!"  The  mother  had  utterly  refused 
to  make  any  explanation  whatever,  and  Alice  ex 
pressed  it  as  her -belief  that  it  was  her  persistence 
that  drove  her  from  the  house  to  the  wilderness. 

Then  Mathew  began  to  reason  that  Billington's 
visit  had  something  to  do  with  the  nocturnal  jour 
ney  of  Sarah  White.  If  he  had  been  the  cause  of 
her  going  away,  he  knew  whither  she  had  gone, 
and  if  he  knew,  he  should  tell.  He  asked  Alice 


314  THE  PILGRIMS. 

to  remain  at  the  house,  while  he  went  to  make 
some  inquiries. 

"Will  you  help  me  to  find  her?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  answered. 

"Though  you  go  all  over  the  world?" 

"  I  will  find  your  mother,  Alice,  or  devote  the 
remainder  of  my  life  to  the  search. " 

"I  greatly  fear  that  we  are  indirectly  the  cause 
of  her  flight.  I  told  her  she  must  confide  the  se 
cret  to  me,  and  then  she  fell  on  her  knees  and 
begged  me,  with  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes,  to 
spare  her;  but  I  was  determined.  You  said  we 
must  know  the  secret,  and — and — I  fear  it  was 
our  determination  that  drove  her  mad.  Why  else 
should  she  make  a  journey  to  the  wilderness?" 

"Don't  upbraid  yourself,  Alice;  your  mother 
shall  be  found,"  he  firmly  declared.  "Wait!" 

Then  Mathew  left  the  house.  At  the  door  he 
paused  to  whisper  to  Mrs.  Brewster: 

"  She  is  weak,  faint,  and  in  great  distress.  In 
sist  that  she  breakfast  while  I  am  gone." 

With  that  parting  injunction,  he  was  gone. 
Mathew  found  Billington  in  his  miserable  cabin. 
He  had  passed  a  lonely  night  in  his  home,  had 
just  risen,  and  was  swinging  some  pots  over  the 
fire  to  cook  his  breakfast. 

"Ho!  Mathew.  Why  this  early  visit?"  he 
asked. 


SEEKING    THE  LOST.  815 

"Did  you  see  Sarah  White  during  the  night?" 
he  asked. 

"In  truth  I  did." 

"Where?" 

"She  rapped  at  my  door." 

"At  what  hour?" 

"  The  middle  of  the  night." 

"Where  hath  she  gone?" 

"To  New  Amsterdam." 

"But  no  vessel  sailed!" 

"  One  can  make  the  journey  by  land  if  they  pro 
cure  natives  to  ferry  them  across  the  streams." 

"She  went  by  land?" 

"Yes." 

Mathew  asked  no  more,  but  hastened  back  to 
Alice.  He  told  her  what  he  had  learned  from  Bil- 
lington,  and  said: 

"  I  shall  set  out  at  once  to  search  for  her,  and  I 
will  never  cease  in  my  endeavors  until  I  have 
found  her." 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  she  declared. 

"  No,  no;  the  journey  will  be  too  much  for  you." 

"I  could  not  abide  here,  with  the  realization 
that  my  poor  mother  is  in  the  wilderness,  sur 
rounded  by  the  perils  of  an  unknown  forest.  I 
must  go." 

No  amount  of  persuasion  could  shake  her  de 
termination,    and    at    last    he    consented.     John 


316  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Alden,  Samuel  Warren,  and  Stephen  Hopkins, 
three  brave  Pilgrims  who  had  served  under  Mathew 
during  the  Pequod  war,  volunteered  to  accompany 
him  and  share  his  dangers  and  toils.  Added  to 
these  were  two  Indian  guides,  who  were  fast  friends 
of  the  young  Puritan,  and  who  agreed  to  lead 
them  safely  through  the  wilderness. 

"Shall  we  go  by  water?"  Alden  asked. 

"No,  no,"  Alice  pleaded.  "Mother  went  by 
land,  let  us  follow  her  footsteps." 

"By  taking  a  vessel  we  can  reach  New  Amster 
dam  long  before  she  does." 

"Mother  will  never  reach  New  Amsterdam," 
she  answered.  "She  is  too  weak;  she  will  faint 
by  the  way." 

Her  reasoning  was  good,  for  all  knew  that  the 
vast  distance  she  would  have  to  traverse  through 
the  wilderness  would  be  beyond  her  endurance. 
The  party  started,  and  Alice  trudged  along  by  the 
side  of  Mathew  in  silence.  Her  tears  were  dried 
and  all  her  energies  were  bent  to  finding  the  lost 
one.  They  presented  a  strange  sight,  those  five 
wanderers,  as  they  trudged  through  the  woods. 
Each  man  carried  a  bundle  on  his  back,  and  some 
provisions  in  a  bag.  In  addition  they  had  their 
muskets  and  swords.  Each  had  one  and  some  two 
pistols  in  his  belt.  Their  arms,  armor  and  ac 
coutrements  so  encumbered  them  that  they  could 


SEEKING    THE   LOST.  317 

not  make  any  great  speed.  They  did  not  travel 
far  in  a  day.  Alice,  in  her  anxiety,  would  have 
over-exerted  herself,  had  she  not  been  restrained 
by  those  with  cooler  heads  and  better  judgment. 

On  through  the  wild  wood  the  little  band 
pressed;  over  rocky  hills,  down  descending  slopes, 
where  purling  streams  went  gently  and  merrily  on 
their  way  to  their  eternity — the  ocean;  then  again 
climbing  mountain  sides,  listening  to  the  wild  roar 
of  the  cataract  as  it  thundered  downward  amid 
foam  and  spray,  forming  delightful  rainbows  in  the 
air;  through  secluded  dells,  delightful  plains  to 
wild  rocky  summits,  they  pressed  on.  At  times 
the  tall  trees  threw  their  giant  branches  over  them, 
forming  a  covering  from  the  friendly  sky.  Then 
they  crossed  a  plain  where  they  were  compelled  to 
part  the  tall  grass  with  their  hands  to  force  a  pas 
sage  through  it. 

When  night  came,  they  built  their  camp-fire  be 
neath  a  hoary-headed  oak,  and  Mathew,  with  the 
blankets,  made  a  bed  and  canopy-like  tent  for 
Alice.  As  the  Pilgrims  and  their  guides  sat  about 
their  tent  in  silence,  they  heard  the  stealthy  tread 
of  advancing  feet.  Immediately  every  man  seized 
his  gun  and  prepared  for  an  assault;  but  it  proved 
to  be  two  wandering  Indians  who,  attracted  by 
their  fire,  came  to  see  who  was  in  camp. 

At  Mathew' s  request,  their  guides  interrogated 


318  THE   PILGRIMS. 

them  about  the  lost  woman.  They  answered  that 
they  had  seen  a  white  woman  going  southward. 
She  spoke  English  only,  and  they  could  not  un 
derstand  her;  but  they  described  her  as  being 
wild-eyed  and  haggard.  They  gave  her  some 
food,  and  endeavored  to  detain  her  at  their  village 
a  few  miles  away;  but  she  would  not  stay. 

Early  next  morning  the  wanderers  were  again 
on  their  journey.  They  came  to  a  stream  of  con 
siderable  width,  and  wandering  along  its  rocky 
shore,  found  an  Indian  hamlet  of  five  houses,  in 
habited  by  dusky  fishermen.  They  had  ferried  a 
white  woman  across  the  stream  the  day  before. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  this  woman  was  Mrs. 
Sarah  White,  whom  the  Indians  described  as  sick 
and  faint,  although  she  refused  the  hospitality  they 
offered  her.  She  seemed  in  such  a  hurry  to  go  on 
that  the  savages  thought  she  was  pursued  by  an 
enemy. 

"Poor  mother!"  sighed  Alice.  "I  have  caused 
her  this  misery!" 

Mathew,  who  was  at  her  side,  responded : 

"  Alice,  why  need  we  have  cared  for  the  secret 
which  your  mother  guarded  so  jealously?" 

"It  was  blighting  my  life." 

"Yet  I  would  have  wedded  you  regardless  of 
the  skeleton  in  the  closet." 

"Could  I  be  a  nameless  bride?"  she  asked. 


SEEKING    THE   LOST.  319 

"  Is  not  my  life  clouded  with  mystery  as  well  as 
yours?  Do  I  know  beyond  rumor  and  conjecture 
who  I  am?" 

"Mathew,  it  was  for  you." 

"You  need  not  have  caused  yourself  and  your 
mother  all  this  misery  for  rne,"  he  answered. 

"Yet  you  first  set  me  a-thinking.  You  first 
asked  me  who  my  father  was!" 

"Alas,  I  did;  but  it  was  that  devil  in  human 
form,  Billington,  who  prompted  me  to  ask  you, 
and  I  would  that  I  had  perished  before  I  followed 
the  promptings  of  suspicions,  which  he  roused  in 
rny  heart.  He  rejoices  only  in  the  misery  of 
others,  and  his  cunning  brain  is  always  busy  plan 
ning  for  the  woe  of  his  fellow  men!" 

With  an  effort  to  shake  off  the  feeling  of  op 
pression  which  was  weighing  on  his  breast,  Mathew 
added,  "Alice,  we  can  yet  be  happy.  Consent 
to  be  my  wife,  regardless  of  secrets  or  mystery, 
and  we  will  never  ask  your  mother  to  reveal  it." 

She  was  silent. 

They  were  passing  through  a  low,  narrow  val 
ley  with  a  high  cliff  on  either  side.  The  trees 
grew  dense  in  the  valley,  and  a  path  led  through 
them.  Their  companions  were  a  short  distance 
ahead  of  them,  and  could  not  hear  the  low,  earnest 
pleading  of  the  lover.  He  tried  to  catch  her  eye 
as  they  walked  along  the  path;  but  she  kept  her 


320  THE   PILGRIMS. 

face  averted,  and  the  hand  which  he  held  trembled 
in  his  own.  Encouraged,  he  continued: 

"Alice,  why  prolong  this  misery?  Why  longer 
delay?  What  care  we  for  the  past?  We  live  for 
the  future.  Here  in  this  old  wood,  with  God  for 
our  witness,  promise  me  you  will  reward  my  wait 
ing  by  becoming  my  wife,  as  soon  as  we  shall  re 
turn  to  Plymouth  with  your  mother.  Consent, 
Alice;  say  yes,  and  let  this  sad  march  terminate 
in  a  delightful  walk  through  God's  garden." 

A  moment  of  trembling  silence,  and  then, 
faintly: 

"Yes." 

"Alice,  you  have  made  this  dark  day  glorious. 
I  am  happy." 

"  How  dare  we  talk  of  happiness  with  mother  in 
the  wilderness,  exposed  to  ten  thousand  perils?" 

"We  will  find  her,"  Mathew  answered  cheer- 
fully. 

"Can  we?" 

"We  can  and  will." 

"  You  encourage  me.  Could  I  believe  that  we 
should  really  find  her,  I  would  feel  that  this  was 
in  reality  a  pleasure  journey." 

With  assuring  words  and  a  hopeful  manner,  he 
sought  to  encourage  her  drooping  spirits.  They 
hastened  on  and  overtook  their  companions,  who 
had  halted  to  consult  with  an  Indian  hunter. 


SEEKING    THE   LOST.  321 

He  had  met  the  fugitive  over  the  range  of  rocky 
hills,  and  had  builded  her  a  fire,  broiled  some 
venison  for  her,  and  given  her  his  robe  of  furs  to 
lie  on.  He  could  speak  no  English,  and  she  no 
Indian ;  but  from  the  way  she  came  and  the  course 
she  went,  it  was  evident  that  she  was  going  to 
Providence,  Rhode  Island. 

"I  understand  her  plans  now,"  Mathew  re 
marked,  on  learning  the  account  of  the  Indian. 
"She  is  going  to  Providence  to  secure  the  aid  of 
her  friend  Eoger  Williams  to  take  her  to  New 
Amsterdam." 

From  the  trail  which  the  Indian  guides  had  fol 
lowed  with  unerring  accuracy,  it  was  quite  appa 
rent  to  all  that  Providence  was  the  destination  de 
signed  by  the  fugitive,  and  thither  the  seekers 
bent  their  steps. 

It  was  evening  when  the  little  band  of  tired 
pursuers  crossed  the  river  and  entered  the  town. 
They  learned  that  the  fugitive  had  arrived  but 
three  or  four  hours  before  them,  and  was  resting 
at  the  house  of  Mr.  Roger  Williams. 

Only  Alice  and  Mathew  were  admitted  to  her 
presence.  Glaring  at  them  with  her  great,  wild 
eyes,  she  asked: 

"Why  did  you  come?     Why  did  you  not  let 
me  complete  my  journey,  and  the  blow  would  have 
fallen  less  heavily." 
21 


322  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"Mother!  mother!"  interrupted  Alice,  with 
choking  sobs,  "that  blow  which  you  have  so  much 
dreaded  has  all  along  been  a  creature  of  your 
fancy.  Had  you  shared  the  burden  with  me  which 
was  crushing  out  your  life,  it  would  have  been 
lighter  for  both  of  us." 

"I  did  not  want  your  scorn;  I  could  not  endure 
your  contempt,  Alice,  it  would  have  killed  me." 

"  Mother,  I  can  smile  at  the  fears  which  almost 
craze  your  poor  brain.  Have  no  fear  of  my  scorn. 
I  do  not  want  your  secret.  I  will  never  ask  you 
again.  Mathew  has  promised  to  make  me  his 
wife,  and  we  will  bury  the  hideous  past  forever." 

Sarah  White  turned  her  eyes  upon  her  daughter's 
lover  with  an  inquiring  gaze,  and  Mathew  Stevens, 
interpreting  the  look,  answered  with  a  smile: 

"You  may  either  disclose  or  keep  forever  veiled 
that  secret,  just  as  you  choose.  I  have  asked  the 
hand  of  Alice  in  marriage,  she  has  consented  with 
out  any  reservation  whatever,  and  on  our  return 
we  will  marry,  despite  the  past." 

A  glad  light  beamed  in  the  woman's  eyes,  and 
she  feebly  gasped : 

"Sit  down." 

One  of  the  articles  of  furniture  in  that  room 
was  a  long,  hard  bench,  which,  in  the  early  days 
of  the  English  settlers,  formed  an  indispensable 
article  for  housekeeping.  Mathew  drew  it  up  by 


SEEKING    THE   LOST.  323 

the  side  of  the  feeble  woman,  and  both  he  and 
Alice  seated  themselves  thereon.  Sarah  White, 
in  a  slow,  somewhat  feeble,  but  at  the  same  time 
firm  voice,  began: 

"On  the  night  I  left  home,  I  promised  Alice 
that  when  next  I  saw  her  I  would  unfold  this 
mystery,  and  I  shall  make  good  my  promise.  I 
had  hoped  before  I  did  so,  however,  to  meet  the 
author  of  our  wrongs  face  to  face  and  make  him 
take  his  share  of  the  blame;  but  I  cannot.  I  am 
too  weak — too  weak.  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you 
the  story  of  my  life." 

Then  she  had  to  wait  until  she  recovered  her 
self,  for  her  journey  had  fatigued  her,  and  she  was 
very  weak.  Mrs.  Williams  brought  her  some  old 
English  beer,  which  she  sipped,  grew  stronger,  and, 
after  a  few  moments  spent  in  gathering  up  her 
resolution  and  the  fragments  of  her  story,  she 
began : 

"In  the  long  ago,  when  I  was  a  blushing  girl  in 
old  England,  my  father  was  a  small  tradesman  in 
our  village.  I  was  his  only  daughter,  though  he 
had  two  sons,  William  and  John.  John  died 
early,  and  William,  as  you  know,  was  a  passenger 
on  The  Mayflower,  and  among  the  first  to  perish  in 
New  England.  I  had  many  lovers,  and  among 
them  was  Francis  Billington,  the  son  of  a  low-bred 
fellow,  who  had  been  convicted  at  the  assizes  for 


324  THE   PILGRIMS. 

poaching.  Though  I  never  in  all  my  life  favored 
him  in  any  way,  Billington  was  persistent  and 
vindictive  in  his  suit.  I  declined  his  hand ;  but 
it  did  not  end  his  obnoxious  attentions. 

"  When  I  was  seventeen  years  of  age,  there  came 
to  our  village  a  company  of  soldiers.  Among  them 
was  a  gallant  young  officer,  whose  fair  young  face 
was  like  the  morning,  and  when  he  smiled  on  me, 
I  was  almost  wild  with  delight.  From  the  first 
moment  I  saw  him,  I  loved  him,  and  I  believe  he 
returned  my  affection.  How  we  met  first  and 
became  acquainted,  I  will  not  take  up  the  time 
now  to  tell  you,  but  we  did,  unbeknown  to  my 
parents,  become  acquainted  and  met  frequently. 
The  tale  of  love  which  he  poured  so  earnestly  into 
my  ear  was  enough  to  turn  the  head  of  any  poor 
girl.  Of  course  I  believed  him.  I  was  young 
and  inexperienced,  and  so  delightful  was  it  to  be 
loved  that  I  would  not  take  my  parents  into  my 
confidence  and  ask  their  advice,  for  fear  they 
would  disapprove  of  our  meetings  and  thus  deprive 
me  of  the  pleasure  of  meeting  the  man  I  adored ; 
but  my  father  by  some  means  (perhaps  it  was  Bil 
lington  who  told  him)  learned  of  our  meetings  and 
forbade  me  seeing  the  soldier.  He  believed  all 
soldiers  a  class  of  wandering  vagabonds,  and  this 
one  especially  was  distasteful  on  account  of  his 
being  a  Catholic.  My  father,  being  a  Puritan, 


SEEKING    THE   LOST.  325 

hated  the  Catholics,  and  under  no  circumstances 
would  have  consented  to  allow  his  daughter  to 
marry  a  papist.  I  heeded  not  his  warning,  but 
obeyed  the  foolish  impulses  of  my  own  inexperi 
enced  heart. 

"We  met  more  frequently  than  before,  and, 
knowing  my  father's  opposition  to  him,  he  began 
to  urge  me  to  marry  him  secretly.  I  resisted  at 
first,  but  after  long  importuning  yielded,  and  we 
went  to  a  lonely  chapel  one  night,  just  he  and  I, 
and  were  met  by  a  man  in  priestly  robes.  The 
ceremony  was  performed  according  to  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  I  believed  myself  his  wife.  We 
thought  that  we  three  were  alone;  but  as  we  left 
the  chapel  I  espied  Francis  Billington,  who  had 
been  a  witness  to  the  whole  ceremony.  My  hus 
band,  angry  at  the  appearance  of  the  interloper, 
drew  his  sword  and  sought  to  slay  him;  but  Bil 
lington  made  his  escape,  swearing  that  he  would  be 
avenged.  At  the  time  I  supposed  that  he  would 
go  immediately  and  tell  my  father;  but  he  did  not. 
His  vengeance  was  of  a  deeper  and  keener  sort. 
Weeks  and  months  went  by,  and  we  passed  our 
honeymoon  in  secret. 

"One  terrible  day  news  came  that  the  soldiers 
had  been  suddenly  ordered  away  to  fight  the  In 
vincible  Armada  which  Spain  was  sending  to  de 
stroy  England,  He  went  away  without  giving  rne 


326  THE   PILGRIMS. 

a  word  of  warning,  or  even  sending  me  a  message. 
For  a  long  time  after  that  I  was  almost  at  death's 
door.  Alice  was  born,  and  Billington  told  my 
father  how  I  had  been  betrayed,  for  the  man  who 
had  performed  the  ceremony  was  not  a  priest,  but 
one  of  the  soldier's  comrades  who  assumed  the  role 
of  priest  to  deceive  me.  At  first  I  did  not,  I 
could  not  believe  it;  but  as  months  went  by  and  I 
received  no  letter  or  message  from  the  man  I  be 
lieved  my  husband,  I  was  forced  to  the  shameful 
conclusion  that  I  had  been  deceived.  Over 
whelmed  with  grief,  I  left  my  home  in  the  north 
of  England  and  went  to  live  with  my  brother 
at  Plymouth.  Shortly  after,  my  parents  died. 
At  Plymouth,  Billington  joined  us,  though  why, 
I  know  not,  unless  to  torture  me  by  his  presence. 
From  Plymouth  we  removed  to  the  Downs.  I 
need  not  tell  you  how  all  these  years  Billington 
followed  and  haunted  me.  He  married,  and  had 
a  son;  but  he  never  ceased  to  pursue  me  with 
the  hate  of  a  devil.  When  his  wife  died,  he 
proposed  marriage;  but  I  spurned  the  wretch. 
We  went  from  the  Downs  to  Lincoln,  thence  to 
London,  and,  as  you  know,  came  to  America. 
There  you  have  it  all  now.  I  have  long  kept  the 
secret  for  the  sake  of  Alice,  and  partially  for  the 
sake  of  her  father,  whom  I  still  love.  I  cannot 
bear  to  hear  him  upbraided  by  those  who  are  my 


SEEKING    THE   LOST.  327 

friends.  I  was  young,  foolish,  vain — but  say  no 
harm  of  him." 

"  Perhaps  he  was  slain  ?"  suggested  Mathew. 

"I  thought  so  for  a  long  time;  but  he  was  not. 
He  still  lives." 

"How  know  you  he  lives?" 

"Billington  saw  him." 

"At  New  Amsterdam?" 

"Yes." 

"And  thither  you  were  going?" 

"I  was;  but  I  am  too  feeble  to  make  the  jour 
ney.  Take  me  home,  and  let  me  die." 

Alice  turned  her  tear-dimmed  eyes  on  Mathew, 
and,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion,  said: 

"  You  know  it  all  now;  do  you  still  insist?" 

"I  do,  Alice.     Will  you  be  my  wife?" 

"I  will!"  With  a  glad  cry  he  clasped  her  in  his 
arms  and  imprinted  on  her  lips  a  kiss. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DAY   DAWNS. 

See,  heaven  its  sparkling  portals  wide  display, 
And  break  upon  thee  in  the  flood  of  day. 
No  more  the  rising  sun  shall  gild  the  morn, 
Nor  evening  Cynthia  fill  her  silver  horn ; 
But  lost,  dissolved  in  thy  superior  rays, 
One  tide  of  glory,  one  unclouded  blaze. 

— POPE. 

JUST  as  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun  danced  over 
the  deep,  bringing  into  bold  relief  gray  old  Ply 
mouth  Rock,  and  as  the  soft  refulgent  light  perme 
ated  the  deeper  shades  of  the  gloomy  old  forest 
which  formed  the  background  of  the  picture,  a 
small  bark  from  Providence  entered  the  harbor. 
It  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  vessels  from  other 
colonies  to  visit  New  Plymouth  for  purposes  of 
trade  or  friendly  greetings;  yet  these  visits  were 
not  so  common  that  they  did  not  create  a  little  flut 
ter  of  excitement  every  time  a  white  sail  was  seen 
gleaming  on  the  ocean. 

A  group  of  people  gathered  quickly  on  the  shore 
and  began  to  conjecture  as  to  the  new-comers  and 

328 


DAY   DAWNS.  329 

the  object  of  their  visit.  A  wreath  of  white  smoke 
suddenly  rose  from  the  forecastle  of  the  pinnace, 
and  the  report  of  a  gun  rang  out  over  the  bay. 
The  cannon  in  the  fort  answered  the  salute,  and 
as  the  small  craft  drew  nearer  the  features  of  Ma- 
thew  Stevens  and  John  Alden  could  be  made  out. 

Wild  shouts  of  joy  rose  on  the  air,  and  every 
body  was  asking: 

"Have  they  found  the  missing  woman?" 

The  craft  came  slowly  in,  and,  as  Mathew  leaped 
ashore,  Governor  Bradford  was  first  to  seize  his 
hand  and  ask: 

"Have  you  found  her?" 

"We  have.     She  is  in  the  pinnace." 

Sarah  White,  so  weak  and  feeble  that  she 
could  scarcely  stand,  tottered  ashore,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  her  daughter.  The  solemn  Pilgrims 
received  her  with  a  welcome  that  was  rather  bois 
terous  for  people  of  their  sedate  habits. 

"Where  will  you  go?"  Governor  Bradford 
asked  the  woman. 

"To  my  home,"  she  answered. 

Mathew  conducted  her  to  her  home  on  the  hill. 

"  Come  to  me  as  soon  as  you  can,"  said  the  gov 
ernor  to  Captain  Stevens,  as  he  was  going  away 
with  Alice  and  her  mother.  Mathew  promised  to 
do  so,  wondering  all  the  while  what  business  the 
governor  could  have  with  him.  When  the  little 


330  THE   PILGRIMS. 

cabin  on  the  hill  was  reached,  Alice's  mother  was 
laid  on  her  bed.  Her  eyes  were  sunken  and  her 
pale  cheeks  had  assumed  a  deathly  hue. 

"Will  you  be  afraid  to  stay  here?"  he  asked. 

"Whom  should  I  fear?" 

"Billington." 

"  He  is  harmless  now.  The  secret  which  was  his 
weapon  is  no  longer  his." 

Mathew  left,  promising  to  return  soon,  and 
hastened  to  the  house  of  the  governor.  Governor 
Bradford  was  waiting  for  him  at  the  gate. 

"You  wish  to  see  me?"  Mathew  asked. 

"  Yes,  some  men  from  New  Amsterdam  are  here, 
and  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you,"  returned  the 
governor. 

"It  is  Hans  Van  Brunt,"  cried  Mathew. 

"He  is  one." 

"And  the  other?" 

"Is  an  Englishman,  accompanied  by  a  priest." 

"A  Roman  Catholic  priest?" 

"Yes,  Father  Altham." 

"Why  should  a  priest  venture  here?" 

"Their  business  seems  to  be  with  you.  The 
priest  will  do  us  no  harm,  seeing  that  he  has  no 
designs  to  proselyte." 

Mathew  Stevens  was  completely  dumfounded 
with  amazement.  Turning  to  the  governor  he 
asked: 


DAY  DAWNS.  331 

"Are  not  these  people  Spaniards  instead  of  Eng 
lishmen?" 

"No;  all  save  the  Hollander  are  Englishmen." 

"Is  one  named  Stevens?" 

"No,  his  name  is  Boby." 

While  they  were  still  discussing  the  strangers, 
Hans  Van  Brunt  came  from  the  house,  and,  seeing 
his  friend,  hurried  toward  him  in  his  frank,  honest 
way,  declaring: 

"  A  sight  of  you  does  one  good.  We  do  grow 
older,  friend  Mathew;  but  time  hath  dealt  more 
gently  with  me  than  you.  I  see  that  your  hair  is 
flecked  with  gray,  and  there  are  wrinkles  about 
your  eyes;  but  they  seem  more  of  care  than  age." 

The  rubicund  face  of  the  Dutchman  showed  no 
evidences  of  crow's  feet,  and  one  might  search  a 
long  time  before  a  white  hair  could  be  discovered 
among  his  locks.  Mathew  greeted  his  friend  cor 
dially,  and  as  they  seated  themselves  on  the  large 
bench  at  the  side  of  the  door,  asked: 

"Hans,  whom  did  you  bring  with  you?" 

"Two  Englishmen,"  Hans  answered.  "Mr. 
William  Roby,  and  a  priest  called  Father  Altham." 

"How  dare  a  Catholic  priest  come  here?  The 
Pilgrims  will  not  permit  him  to  remain.  They 
will  banish  him  from  the  colony." 

"  He  will  not  remain,"  Hans  answered  carelessly. 
"  Once  his  business  is  transacted,  he  will  go  away." 


332  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"Is  his  business  with  me?" 

"No;  I  know  not  with  whom  his  business  is; 
but  I  think  it  is  not  with  you." 

Mathew  Stevens  had  been  led  to  believe  by 
Governor  Bradford  that  the  business  of  these  men 
was  with  him;  but  Hans  was  of  the  opinion  that, 
while  their  business  was  not  exactly  with  him,  it 
was  through  him  that  it  was  to  be  transacted.  He 
sat  staring  at  his  Dutch  friend  in  hopeless  bewil 
derment.  Hans  resumed: 

"I  saw  this  man  Roby  when  he  first  came  to 
New  Amsterdam.  He  was  a  tall,  thin  man  and 
looked  as  if  he  had  worn  himself  to  a  shadow.  I 
told  Governor  Yan  Twiller  that  he  was  no  ordinary 
man,  and  Van  Twiller  he  smoked  his  pipe  and 
said  nothing,  just  as  he  always  does  when  he 
wants  to  be  wise.  Everybody  in  New  Netherland 
is  making  sport  of  the  governor  now.  He  is 
wisest  when  he  says  nothing;  but  he  came;  he 
bought  shiploads  of  furs  and  made  a  large  fortune 
from  the  sale  of  them." 

Mathew  at  this  point  of  the  Dutchman's  narrative 
was  lost,  and  asked: 

"Who  came  and  got  rich  in  furs?  Van  Twil 
ler?" 

"No;  the  Englishman  Roby." 

After  all  it  seemed  as  if  this  mysterious  visit 
were  going  to  take  a  financial  turn.  Mathew  did 


DAY  DAWNS.  333 

not  interpose  any  more  questions,  although  Hans, 
in  his  careless  manner,  mixed  his  pronouns  and 
antecedents  in  a  way  liable  to  confuse  the  listener. 

"He  was  a  queer  man,"  Hans  resumed,  "just 
such  a  man  as  one  would  stop  on  the  street  to  gaze 
at.  lie  was  a  Catholic,  too,  for  he  wore  a  cross 
about  his  neck;  but  what  cared  I  for  his  being  a 
Catholic?  One  religion  is  as  good  as  another  if  one 
be  honest  and  earnest.  Do  we  not  all  worship  the 
same  God?  Then  why  object  to  others  worship 
ping  him  as  they  choose?  He  came,  and  though  he 
said  nothing  about  himself,  he  asked  me  all  about 
myself,  and  everybody  else  I  had  ever  known.  He 
asked  about  the  Pilgrims  and  about  you.  He  said 
you  had  a  brother  and  a  father  in  Virginia." 

At  this  point  Mathew  was  quite  sure  he  saw 
through  it  all.  These  men  must  be  messengers 
from  his  brother  and  father  in  Virginia,  who  in 
some  way  had  learned  that  he  was  in  Plymouth. 

"  My  father  and  brother  sent  him  and  the  priest?" 
he  cried. 

"No,"  answered  the  Dutchman,  lighting  his 
pipe,  and  smoking  with  provoking  slowness. 
"The  men  don't  come  to  see  you.  Their  busi 
ness  is  with  another;  but  it  is  thought  best  that 
the  matter  be  reached  through  you." 

"Well,  proceed,"  said  Mathew,  growing  impa 
tient. 


334  THE  PILGRIMS. 

"One  day  he  was  at  New  Amsterdam." 

"Who?  the  priest?" 

"No,  the  man  Eoby." 

"Well,  what  did  he  do  when  he  was  at  New 
Amsterdam?" 

"The  man  calling  himself  Billington  was  in 
New  Amsterdam  also,"  Hans  went  on  in  his  ram 
bling  way,  occasionally  pausing  in  his  disjointed 
narrative  to  smoke.  "I  did  not  know  why  he 
came,  nor  did  any  other;  but  he  did  not  look 
honest.  I  fell  in  conversation  with  him  and  he 
told  me  he  was  from  New  Plymouth,  and  I  then 
asked  him  about  my  old  friend,  for  I  remem 
bered  having  seen  him  once  when  I  was  here.  He 
said  he  knew  you;  then  I  told  him  of  Roby,  who 
had  told  me  of  your  brother  and  father  in  Vir 
ginia.  He  then  wanted  to  see  the  stranger,  and  I 
took  him  to  the  public  house  where  Roby  was,  and 
no  sooner  did  he  get  a  sight  of  him,  than  he  turned 
away  and  ran  as  if  he  had  seen  a  spook,  and  I  never 
saw  him  more  in  New  Amsterdam." 

Hans  paused  and  smoked  his  pipe  a  long  time, 
while  Mathew  Stevens,  with  his  mind  more  mud 
dled  than  ever,  asked  himself  what  the  fellow  was 
driving  at.  After  Hans  had  drawn  two  dozen 
deep  draughts  from  his  pipe,  without  seeming  to 
show  any  inclination  to  proceed,  Mathew  re 
marked  : 


DAY  DAWNS.  335 

"  Hans,  the  business  of  these  men  certainly  must 
concern  my  father  and  brother." 

"No,"  Hans  answered,  and  smoked  his  pipe  in 
silence. 

"What  is  their  business?"  Mathew  asked,  be 
coming  impatient. 

Hans  was  in  no  hurry  to  answer  and,  with  that 
coolness  characteristic  of  the  careful  Hollander, 
went  on  slowly: 

"  From  the  way  he  ran  off,  I  thought  Billington 
was  afraid  of  him." 

"Was  he?" 

"He  was.     I  asked  Mr.  Roby  about  him." 

"About  Billington?" 

"Yes,  and— 

"Did  he  know  him?"  asked  Mathew,  beginning 
to  see  a  new  interest  in  the  story  of  the  Dutch 
man. 

"He  turned  whiter  than  I  ever  saw  a  sail  on  the 
ocean,  at  mention  of  his  name,  and  trembled  from 
head  to  foot.  I  never  saw  a  man  in  such  a  rage," 
continued  Hans,  with  his  provoking  slowness. 
"  He  was  so  angry  that  I  believe  he  could  have 
killed  somebody.  I  knew  then  that  he  hated  Bil 
lington,  so  I  began  to  question  him;  but  he  told 
me  nothing,"  and  Hans  again  paused  in  his  narra 
tive  to  puff  at  his  pipe  in  silence.  Mathew,  whose 
patience  was  almost  worn  threadbare,  urged  him 


836  THE   PILGRIMS. 

to  go  on,  when  Hans,  casting  his  eyes  toward  the 
door,  said: 

"He  comes  now." 

Mathew  turned  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the 
door  and  saw  a  tall,  spare  gentleman,  who  with  his 
cloak  and  steeple-crowned  hat  looked  like  a  Pilgrim. 
His  beard  was  close -cropped,  but  pointed  at  the 
chin.  His  face  was  grave,  and  his  pale  blue  eyes 
had  a  restless,  eager  look.  When  he  spoke,  there 
was  a  nervous  twitching  about  the  corners  of  his 
mouth,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was  suf 
fering  mentally.  He  paused  a  moment  at  the  door, 
and  then,  seeing  Hans  and  Mathew,  came  directly 
toward  them.  The  Dutchman,  still  clinging  to  his 
beloved  pipe,  told  Mr.  Roby  that  this  man  was 
"Stevens  whom  he  wished  to  see." 

The  mysterious  stranger  grasped  the  hand  of 
Mathew  for  a  moment  in  silence;  then  both  seated 
themselves  on  the  bench.  Mathew,  still  bewil 
dered,  was  about  to  ask  what  the  man's  business 
was,  when  the  stranger,  in  his  peculiar  interro 
gating  way,  began: 

"  You  are  Mathew  Stevens,  the  Spaniard  from 
England?" 

"I  am." 

"You  were  at  Leyden?" 

"Yes." 

"How  long  have  you  known    Sarah  White?" 


DAY  DAWNS.  337 

asked  the  man,  with  an  increasing  nervous  twitch 
ing  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  Mathew  saw 
that,  although  the  man  was  outwardly  calm,  a  ter 
rible  conflict  raged  in  his  breast.  He  answered  his 
question  at  once,  stating  when,  where,  and  how  he 
had  first  met  Alice's  mother. 

"She  has  a  daughter,  I  am  told?"  the  stranger 
said,  clasping  his  hands. 

"She  has,"  answered  Mathew.  "A  daughter 
who  is  in  very  truth  an  angel.  There  never  was  a 
purer  being,"  and  Mathew  went  on  to  describe 
Alice,  with  all  the  fervent  enthusiasm  of  a  lover. 
When  he  had  finished,  he  observed  that  the 
stranger  was  wringing  his  hands,  his  chin  was  quiv 
ering  and  the  tears  were  rolling  down  his  cheeks. 

"My  God!"  he  groaned.  "My  God  forgive 
me!" 

Light  began  to  dawn  on  his  mind.  Like  a  flash 
he  saw  it  all,  and,  seizing  Roby  by  the  shoulder, 
he  cried: 

"You — you  are  her  father?" 

"Yes." 

"You  are  he  who  deceived  Sarah  White  into  a 
pretended  marriage." 

"No,  no;  as  God  and  the  Holy  Father  will  bear 
witness,  I  deceived  her  not." 

"What  mean  you?" 

"She  is  my  wife,  my  lawful  wife.  I  brought 
22 


338  THE   PILGRIMS.       . 

the  priest  with  me  who  performed  the  ceremony 
that  he  might  bear  testimony  to  the  fact  that  the 
marriage  was  lawful.  She  is  now  my  wife." 

Had  the  Spaniard  been  struck  a  blow  in  the  face 
he  could  not  have  been  more  staggered.  Starting 
back,  he  glared  at  Roby  for  a  moment,  while  the 
fires  of  fury  kindled  in  his  eyes.  In  the  breast  of 
the  hot-blooded  young  Spaniard  were  all  the 
fiercest  passions  ready  to  be  ignited  by  the  smallest 
spark.  And,  in  the  lover's  indignation,  sparks 
were  not  wanting. 

"You  dare  to  tell  me  this?"  he  cried,  his  voice 
choked  with  passion.  "You  dare  to  tell  me  that 
you  wed  the  mother  of  Alice  and  deserted  her? 
If  you  had  not  the  heart  of  a  devil,  you  could  not 
boast  of  an  act  so  cowardly."  His  voice  was 
pitched  high;  his  words  came  rapidly,  and  he 
poured  forth  the  vials  of  his  wrath  upon  the  head 
of  Mr.  Roby,  who  was  much  too  agitated  to  defend 
himself  and  gazed  at  him  in  mute  appeal.  It  was 
not  until  Mathew  had  exhausted  his  vocabulary 
and  his  breath,  that  he  ceased.  Taking  advantage 
of  the  temporary  pause,  Mr.  Roby  sprang  quickly 
to  his  feet  and  said : 

"You  do  me  a  great  wrong;  wait  until  you  hear 
all." 

"I  have  heard  quite  enough  to  judge  of  you." 

"If  Sarah  White  told  you  anything  of  me,  she 


DAY  DAWNS. 


339 


"YOU— YOU  ARE   HER  FATHER!" 

will  bear  me  out  in  my  story  that  my  regiment  was 
ordered  away  to  fight  the  Invincible  Armada,  and 
that  I  went  thence  to  Flanders." 


340  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"She  has  told  me  all;  but  why  did  you  not 
return?" 

"A  soldier  cannot  always  go  whither  he  would; 
besides  I  was  sorely  wounded  and  sick  almost  unto 
death.  When  I  recovered  I  was  sent  to  Flanders, 
and  as  soon  as  was  possible  I  did  return  to  England 
to  find  my  wife;  but  she  was  gone.  I  have 
searched  for  her  ever  since,  and  never,  until  in 
casual  conversation  with  your  friend  Hans  Yan 
Brunt,  had  I  the  least  intimation  where  she  was, 
or  that  she  even  lived." 

There  were  truth  and  honesty  in  his  grave  face; 
but  Mathew  was  not  ready  yet  to  -wholly  excuse 
him.  After  a  moment  he  said,  as  the  scowl  faded 
from  his  face:  "You  could  have  written." 

"  I  did.  I  wrote  almost  daily,  and  every  mes 
sage  was  full  of  affection  and  hope ;  but,  alas !  my 
letters  never  reached  her." 

"Why?" 

"They  were  intercepted." 

"Intercepted?"  cried  Mathew. 

"You  have  heard  of  Billington?" 

"Yes." 

"He  intercepted  my  letters." 

"How  do  you  know  that  he  did?" 

"From  his  written  confession." 

"His  written  confession?  When  did  you  ob 
tain  it?" 


DAY  DAWNS.  341 

"Last  evening.  When  I  came  here  during  your 
absence  in  search  of  my  wife,  from  whom  I  had 
been  so  long  and  shamefully  separated,  I  found 
Billington.  He  was  very  much  frightened,  for  he 
supposed  that  I  would  kill  him ;  but  I  did  not  injure 
him,  and  only  demanded  that  he  should,  in  writ 
ing,  confess  all  that  he  had  done,  so  that  when  I 
went  to  my  wife  I  might  have  iny  case  made  out 
so  clear  that  not  a  shadow  of  guilt  would  be  left. 
By  this  confession  it  seems  that,  after  I  left  with  my 
regiment,  he  set  himself  as  a  spy  upon  my  wife. 
He  originated  the  report  that  the  marriage  was  a 
sham,  when  he  was  certain  there  was  no  way  to 
prove  to  the  contrary.  He  watched  for  my  letters 
and,  by  subtle  bribery,  secured  all  of  them,  which 
he  has  preserved  and  last  night  turned  over  to  me. 
Here  is  his  written  confession,"  and  Mr.  Roby 
held  up  a  roll  of  parchment,  which  was  headed, 
"  Confession  of  one  Francis  Billington." 

Mathew  took  the  document,  read  it  through  from 
beginning  to  end  and,  carefully  folding  it,  returned 
it  to  him. 

"Have  you  used  every  effort  in  your  power  to 
find  your  wife  and  child?"  he  asked,  in  a  much 
calmer  tone  than  he  had  before  addressed  Mr.  Roby. 

"As  God  is  my  judge,  I  did.  I  travelled  all 
over  England,  but  could  not  find  them.  She  never 
took  my  name,  which  made  my  search  much  more 


342  THE   PILGRIMS. 

difficult.  While  I  bent  all  my  energies  to  finding 
Sarah  Roby,  she  was  living  in  seclusion  as  Sarah 
White.  When  I  searched  North  England  she  was 
in  Plymouth,  and  while  I  was  in  Plymouth,  she 
lived  in  the  Downs;  when  I  turned  my  attention 
to  the  Downs,  she  was  in  Lincolnshire,  or  immured 
in  the  very  heart  of  London,  so  that  all  along  my 
search  has  been  in  vain.  Thus  I  wandered  over 
all  the  old  and  new  world  without  having  any  idea 
of  where  she  was,  or  that  she  was  even  living, 
until  by  accident  your  friend  Hans  told  me  of  a 
woman  living  here,  and  his  description  of  her  led 
me  to  believe  that  she  was  my  long-lost  wife. 
Even  then  I  might  not  have  suspected  that  Sarah 
White  was  in  reality  Sarah  Roby,  had  not  the 
strange  conduct  of  Billington,  of  which  he  told  me, 
awakened  my  suspicions.  Then  with  your  friend 
Hans  I  came  here,  to  find  her  run  mad  and  escaped 
to  the  forest — 

Grasping  his  hand,  Mathew  interrupted  him 
with: 

"  Forgive  me,  I  realize  now  how  greatly  I  have 
wronged  you." 

"Say  no  more;  you  are  forgiven." 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke.  Hans  sat  at  the 
other  end  of  the  bench  unmoved  by  the  dramatic 
episode.  He  had  been  all  the  while  smoking  his 
pipe  with  apparent  unconcern.  The  tobacco  had 


DAY  DAWNS.  343 

all  burned  out,  and  he  desisted  long  enough  to  re 
fill  it,  and  proceeded  to  smoke  again. 

"I  want  you  to  act  as  my  embassador,"  said  Mr. 
Roby. 

"She  will  be  easily  reconciled,"  Mathew  •  an 
swered.  "  I  don't  think  that  at  any  time  she  really 
believed  from  her  heart  that  you  had  intentionally 
deserted  her,  although  you  must  admit  that  the  ap 
pearances  were  very  much  against  you." 

"  They  were,  in  fact.  I  have  no  fears  of  her 
forgiveness,  however;  but  she  is  weak;  she  cannot 
endure  a  great  shock." 

" I  understand;  you  wish  me  to  tell  her  that  you 
are  here?" 

"Yes." 

"It  will  be  a  joy  to  me  to  do  so." 

"  Be  careful  not  to  break  the  news  too  suddenly. 
Take  time — be  cautious- — do  not  tell  her  so  sud 
denly  as  to  shock  her  nerves." 

Mathew  promised  to  use  due  caution,  and  they 
entered  the  house  to  consult  with  the  priest  Father 
Altham,  who  confirmed  the  statement  made  by 
William  Roby.  At  the  time  of  Roby's  marriage, 
Father  Altham,  with  other  persecuted  priests,  was 
flying  from  England,  and  it  was  only  by  chance 
that  he  was  in  the  neighborhood  in  disguise  when 
he  was  called  upon  by  the  young  officer  to  perform 
the  marriage.  He  left  England  the  next  day  after 


344  THE   PILGRIMS. 

the  marriage  and  had  not  seen  Mr.  Eoby  since, 
until  they  met  at  Jamestown,  Virginia. 

When  they  had  fully  discussed  the  marriage, 
and  the  best  plan  of  breaking  the  glad  truth  to 
Sarah  Roby,  the  priest  said: 

"I  know  your  father,  Mr.  Stevens.  He  is  an 
aged  cripple  living  with  his  son  at  Jamestown. 
Being  a  Spaniard  and  a  Catholic,  I  received  his 
confession  and  administered  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  to  him  while  I  was  in  Jamestown. 
Your  brother,  like  yourself,  is  a  Protestant.  He  is 
happily  wedded  and  hath  three  beautiful  children, 
the  eldest  of  whom  is  a  namesake  of  Captain  John 
Smith." 

Mathew  heard  this  intelligence  as  if  it  were  a 
drcarn.  His  mind  was  so  wholly  engrossed  with 
the  story  of  William  Roby,  that  his  kindred  were 
of  only  secondary  importance.  lie  was  thinking 
only  of  the  sunlight  that  was  to  beam  on  the  long 
clouded  hearts  of  Alice  and  her  mother. 

Mathew  did  nothing  precipitately.  He  waited 
until  his  nerves  had  become  more  steady  and  his 
excited  spirit  had  had  time  to  become  calm.  Then 
he  walked  leisurely  to  the  house.  Alice  met  him 
at  the  door. 

"Where  is  your  mother?"  he  asked. 

"She  is  sleeping." 

"  Alice?  can  you  bear  good  news?" 


CiOB   HE   PKAISED,    BAY    DAWNS   AT   LAST  !  ' 


DAY  DAWNS.  345 

"Yes, "she  answered,  her  eyes  sparkling  with 
hope  and  curiosity. 

"You  may  think  yourself  strong  enough;  but 
you  little  dream  what  I  have  to  tell  you." 

"I  can  bear  it." 

"  Will  you  be  quite  calm  and  not  grow  excited?" 

She  assured  him  she  would,  and  then  he  led  her 
to  the  wooden  bench  near  the  window  and  sat  by 
her  side  holding  her  hand  in  his  as  he  began  the 
story.  lie  was  frequently  interrupted  by  excla 
mations  from  Alice,  who,  laughing  and  weeping  at 
the  same  time,  like  a  child,  fell  on  his  breast  at  the 
conclusion  and,  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy,  cried: 

"My  father!   O  my  father!   where  is  he?" 

A  piercing  shriek  at  this  moment  startled  both, 
and  looking  up  they  beheld  Mrs:  Roby  standing 
before  them.  With  hands  clasped  and  eyes  raised 
heavenward,  she  exclaimed: 

"God  be  praised!     Day  dawns  at  last!" 


CHAPTER   XX. 

CONCLUSION. 

Like  as  the  damask  rose  you  see, 
Or  like  the  blossom  on  the  tree, 
Or  like  the  dainty  flower  in  May, 
Or  like  the  morning  of  the  day, 
Or  like  the  sun  or  like  the  shade 
Or  like  the  gourd  which  Jonas  had  ; 
E'en  such  is  man  whose  thread  is  spun, 
Drawn  out,  and  cut,  and  so  is  done. 

— WASTELL. 

A  FEW  days  after  the  events  narrated  in  the  last 
chapter  Francis  Billington  was  found  hanging  in 
his  own  cabin.  Overcome  by  remorse  and  shame, 
he  had  committed  the  first  suicide  ever  known  in 
New  England.  The  discovery  of  his  body  swing 
ing  from  the  rafter  produced  a  momentary  shudder 
and  gloom  throughout  the  little  colony.  Although 
he  was  a  bad  man,  those  people  were  horrified  at 
the  thought  of  suicide. 

Three  weeks  after  that  event  New  Plymouth 
presented  a  lively  scene.  The  romantic  story  of 
William  Roby  had  gone  all  over  New  England, 

346 


CONCLUSION.  347 

and  he  was  now  the  most  talked-about  man  in  the 
country.  A  wonderful  change  had  come  over  his 
wife,  who  up  to  the  time  of  this  advent  had  been 
known  as  Sarah  White.  Her  cheek  grew  fresher 
and  the  wrinkles  of  age  and  care  were  bidden  stand 
off  for  a  while.  There  was  not  a  happier  home  in 
all  New  England  than  the  reunited  family  of  Wil 
liam  Roby.  Mathew,  the  faithful  lover,  who 
through  the  darkest  hours  and  trial  of  Alice  and  her 
mother  had  remained  true  and  steadfast,  was  now  to 
receive  his  reward. 

It  was  the  dawn  of  his  wedding  day.  From  the 
wild  wood  wont  up  the  songs  of  feathered  warblers, 
for  the  bleak  breath  of  autumn  had  not  yet  blown 
upon  the  fields  and  woods.  It  was  the  golden  har 
vest.  The  fields  were  heavy  with  ripening  corn 
and  bursting  pods  of  beans,  while  the  pumpkins 
lay  like  rich  nuggets  of  gold  on  the  hillside.  The 
leaves  had  assumed  a  yellow  tint,  though  they  clung 
with  youthful  tenacity  to  their  stems. 

It  was  a  fit  season  for  such  a  wedding.  Both 
bride  and  groom  were  approaching  the  golden 
period  of  life. 

The  church  at  Plymouth  was  decorated  with 
wreaths  and  such  wild  flowers  as  were  native  to 
New  England.  Brewster,  the  officiating  clergy 
man,  was  in  the  pulpit,  and  at  his  side,  an  invited 
guest,  was  Father  Altham,  who,  despite  the  preju- 


348  THE   PILGRIMS. 

dices  of  the  Puritans,  was  respected  for  the  noble 
part  he  had  played  in  the  recent  events  in  the  col 
ony.  The  young  maids  and  children  brought  gifts 
of  wild  flowers  and  fruits,  while  the  older  people 
came  laden  with  more  substantial  presents,  and 
after  the  ceremony  the  married  couple  repaired  to 
their  newly  constructed  home  to  begin  a  new  life. 
It  was  a  gala  day  in  New  Plymouth,  such  as  it  had 
never  known  before  in  the  history  of  the  colony. 
The  battery  on  the  platform  fired  a  salute  in  honor 
of  the  grand  occasion,  and  the  day  closed  with 
songs  of  thanksgiving  and  praise. 

It  was  a  calm  evening,  and  the  husband  and 
wife  wandered  down  the  street  to  the  water  and 
seated  themselves  on  old  Plymouth  Hock  to  talk 
over  their  eventful  lives  and  the  goodness  of  God 
in  bringing  them  through  great  tribulations. 

A  large  vessel,  borne  in  swiftly  by  wind  and 
tide,  entered  the  bay.  The  boom  of  a  gun  an 
nounced  her  arrival,  and  this  was  answered  by  a 
shot  from  the  hill.  The  vessel  dropped  its  anchor 
and,  like  some  monster  sea-fowl,  folded  its  wings 
and  slept  on  the  wave. 

Vessels  in  the  New  Plymouth  port  were  not  un 
common,  and  Mathew  Stevens  gave  this  one  but 
very  little  thought.  Next  morning  he  was  awak 
ened  by  Captain  Miles  Standish  and  John  Alden, 
who  told  him: 


CONCLUSION.  349 

"There  is  a  vessel  in  from  Jamestown,  and  it 
has  brought  two  men  to  see  you." 

"My  father  and  brother!"  cried  Mathew,  in  an 
ecstasy  of  delight.  "Are  they  on  shore?" 

"They  have  just  landed." 

Mathew  hastened  down  to  the  sea-shore,  where 
lie  found  a  great  crowd  of  people  assembled.  In 
the  throng  was  Mr.  Eoby  and  the  priest  Father 
Altham  talking  with  two  men  who  were  strangers 
at  New  Plymouth.  The  eldest,  though  evidently 
eighty  years  of  age,  had  an  eye  that  still  retained 
its  youthful  vigor  and  fire.  The  second  was  be 
tween  forty  and  fifty,  bearing  such  a  remarkable 
resemblance  to  Mathew  that  one  would  at  once 
suppose  they  were  brothers. 

"Here  he  comes,"  said  the  priest,  as  Mathew 
Stevens  hastened  forward.  "  Mathew,  your  father, 
Sefior  Estevan."  No  need  to  say  more;  in  a 
moment  father  and  son,  separated  so  many  years, 
were  clasped  in  each  other's  arms.  The  meeting 
between  the  brothers  was  fully  as  affecting,  and 
they  all  went  to  Mathew' s  house,  where  they  were 
to  remain  during  their  visit  at  New  Plymouth. 
Philip  Stevens  had  brought  his  wife  Emily  and 
his  three  children  with  him,  and  never  was  there 
a  more  happy  family  group. 

Next  day  Francisco  Estevan  was  shown  the  old 
chest,  which  had  been  taken  by  Drake  from  St. 


350  THE   PILGRIMS. 

Augustine.  It  was  like  meeting  a  friend  of  his 
young  childhood.  When  last  he  saw  the  old  chest, 
he  was  in  his  young  manhood,  with  hair  dark  as 
the  raven.  His  beloved  wife  Hortense  was  with 
him;  but  now  she  had  long  slept  in  the  tomb  at 
St.  Augustine,  while  those  babes,  torn  from  the 
arms  of  their  fond  parents,  were  bearded  and  gray- 
haired  men.  Overcome  with  emotion  at  the  recol 
lections  awakened  by  this  old  chest,  tears  started 
from  his  eyes  and  fell  upon  the  quaint  old  lid. 

Tenderly  he  took  from  the  chest  some  old  family 
relics,  among  them  a  gauntlet  worn  by  his  father 
in  the  conquest  of  Peru.  There  was  also  a  short 
dagger  which  his  grandfather  Ilernando  Estevan 
wore  when  he  came  with  Columbus  on  that  first 
wonderful  voyage  in  1.492.  On  the  hilt  of  the 
dagger  was  engraved  the  name  of  the  beloved  ad 
miral  "Columbo,"  with  the  date  and  place  of  his 
death,  "  Valladolid,  Spain,  May  20,  1500."  Lastly 
he  took  out  the  manuscript  yellow  with  age,  and 
read  it  with  as  much  interest  as  if  it  had  been  a 
romance. 

"What  is  it?"  Mathew  asked.  "I  have  long 
wished  to  know  the  contents  of  that  manuscript, 
but,  being  wholly  ignorant  of  the  Spanish  lan 
guage,  I  found  it  impossible  to  read  a  line  of  it." 

"It  is  the  biography  of  your  unhappy  father," 
said  Senor  Estevan.  "  It  tells  a  story  of  heartaches 


CONCLUSION.  351 

and  wild,  thrilling  adventures.  This  old  parch 
ment  relates  how  I  left  my  father  and  mother  to 
go  to  Spain  to  study  for  the  monastery,  and  of  the 
last  parting  with  my  brother  Roderigo,  who  the 
same  day  sailed  for  Mexico.  I  have  never  seen 
my  parents  nor  my  brother  since  that  bright  morn 
ing  when  1  sailed  from  Cuba.  It  narrates  how 
your  father  loved  a  fair  Huguenot  in  France,  who 
had  saved  his  life  from  a  shipwreck.  It  tells  how 
he  was  captured  by  pirates  on  his  return  from 
Spain,  taken  to  Fort  Carolinia,  where  he  again  met 
his  beloved  Ilortense  and  married  her."  The  old 
man  was  quite  overcome  by  the  emotions  which 
these  recollections  produced,  and  it  took  several 
minutes  for  him  to  recover.  When  he  did  so,  he 
recalled  his  parting  from  his  brother,  and  said: 

"  My  sons,  I  want  to  exact  from  you  a  promise." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  both  Matliew  and  Philip. 

"You  arc  Englishmen  by  adoption,  education, 
and  marriage.  One  day  there  will  come  strife  be 
tween  the  Spaniards  and  the  English  for  possessions 
in  the  New  World.  As  it  may  not  corne  in  your 
day  I  want  to  admonish  you  to  make  the  same  re 
quest  of  your  posterity  which  I  make  of  you.  Let 
it  be  an  obligation  binding  on  your  sons,  that  they 
never  raise  their  hands  in  deadly  strife  against  an 
Estevan." 

"  Have  we  relatives  in  Florida?"  Mathew  asked. 


352  THE   PILGRIMS. 

"None;  but  I  left  my  parents 'and  a  sister  in 
Cuba,  where  you  may  find  their  descendants.  My 
brother  went  to  Mexico,  married,  and  has  left  a 
large  family  in  that  country.  Like  all  other  Span 
iards  they  have  been  trained  to  hate  the  English; 
3^et  if  they  knew  you  were  the  sons  of  an  Estevan, 
their  arms  would  be  opened  wide  to  receive  you. 
Do  them  no  harm,  I  beseech  of  you." 

"Should  we,  in  God's  providence,  meet  we  shall 
remember  your  words,"  answered  both  Mathew 
and  Philip. 

The  old  man  then  bowed  his  gray  head  thought 
fully  in  his  hand,  and,  in  a  voice  strangely  husky, 
said: 

"I  have  seen  the  beloved  faces  of  those  whom  I 
so  long  mourned  as  dead.  I  have  prayed  long  for 
this,  and  now  I  feel  that  my  prayer  has  been  an 
swered.  She  is  on  the  other  side,  and  I  have 
nothing  more  to  detain  me  here.  Whensoever  my 
God  calls,  I  am  willing  to  depart." 

"Father,  father!"  cried  the  sons,  "let  us  thank 
God  that  we  have  been  spared  to  meet  each 
other." 

"  I  do  thank  him  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart," 
Seiior  Estevan  answered.  "Oh,  Heaven,  could 
Hortense  have  lived  to  see  this  hour,  I  would  be 
happiest  of  all  living  mortals." 

"  Father, "  said  Mathew  reverently,  "  she  is  a  wit- 


CONCLUSION.  353 

ness  to  this  scene.      My  mother  looks  down  from 
Heaven  and  beholds  this  glorious  reunion." 

The  door  opened  and  Alice  and  Philip's  wife 
Emily,  accompanied  by  Father  Altham  and  Mr. 
Brewster,  entered  in  time  to  catch  the  last  remark. 
The  women  bowed  their  heads,  and  Mr.  Brewster 
raised  his  hands  and  offered  a  short  prayer  in  which 
the  priest  joined. 

After  that  hour  Seilor  Estevan  was  a  quiet, 
happy  old  man. 

'I  have  seen  them  together  once  more,  and 
when  I  meet  Hortense  in  Heaven  I  will  tell  her 
all  about  it,"  he  said. 

Alice  Stevens,  when  she  had  learned  her  hus 
band's  sad  life,  told  him  that  she  thought  it  was  as 
romantic  as  her  own. 

"  It  has  been  wild  and  tempestuous,  as  the  dra 
mas  of  life  often  are;  but  God,  the  great  author 
who  writes  all  the  real  plays,  brings  it  out  all  right 
in  the  last  act.  Let  us  praise  his  holy  name  for 
ever  and  ever." 

Mathew  Stevens  tried  to  induce  his  brother 
Philip  to  locate  at  Plymouth;  but  Philip  had  val 
uable  possessions  in  Virginia  which  he  could  not 
abandon.  He,  in  turn,  tried  to  induce  his  brother 
to  emigrate  to  the  latter  country.  That  Mathew 
thought  impossible.  His  wife  could  not  think  of 
tearing  herself  from  her  parents,  who  had  decided 
23 


354  THE   PILGRIMS. 

to  pass  the  remainder  of  their  days  in  Plymouth. 
Consequently,  after  a  visit  of  a  few  weeks,  Philip 
with  his  family  and  father  sailed  for  Virginia. 
Sefior  Estevan  had  valuable  property  in  Florida 
which  demanded  his  attention.  Accompanied  by 
his  son  Philip,  he  sailed  for  St.  Augustine  to  look 
after  it,  and  while  in  that  city  he  showed  his  son 
the  old  cottage  from  which  he  and  Mathew  had 
been  torn  in  their  infancy,  and  pointed  out  the 
marks  of  Drake's  artillery  still  visible  on  the  roof. 
Shortly  after  their  return  to  Jamestown,  Senor 
Estevan  died,  and  his  body  was  taken  to  St.  Au 
gustine  and  buried  by  the  side  of  his  wife.  Ma 
thew  was  informed  of  the  death  of  his  father,  and 
mourned  the  loss  of  the  good  man  as  if  he  had 
been  reared  by  his  tender  hand. 

The  colonies  in  New  England,  especially  the 
Pilgrims  at  Plymouth,  prospered.  True,  they 
met  with  many  drawbacks.  The  continual  theo- 
logico-political  contests  raged.  The  stern  disci 
pline  exercised  by  the  government  at  Salem  pro 
duced  an  early  harvest  of  enemies;  resentment  long 
rankled  in  the  minds  of  some  whom  Endicott  had 
perhaps  too  passionately  punished ;  and  when  they 
returned  to  England,  Mason  and  Gorges,  the  rivals 
of  the  Massachusetts  Company,  willingly  listened 
to  their  vindictive  complaints.  A  petition  even 
reached  King  Charles,  complaining  of  distraction 


CONCLUSION.  355 

and  disorder  on  tlie  plantation;  but  it  met  with 
an  unexpected  issue.  Massachusetts  was  ably  de 
fended  by  Saltonstall,  Humphrey,  and  Craddock, 
its  friends  in  England,  and  the  committee  of  the 
privy  council  reported  in  favor  of  the  adventurers, 
who  were  ordered  to  continue  their  undertaking 
cheerfully,  for  the  king  had  no  design  to  impose  on 
the  people  of  Massachusetts  the  ceremonies  which 
they  had  emigrated  to  avoid.  The  country,  they 
argued,  would  in  time  be  very  beneficial  to  England. 
Though  defeated,  revenge  did  not  slumber,  and 
the  success  of  the  Puritans  in  America  disposed  the 
leaders  of  the  Episcopal  party  to  listen  to  the 
clamors  of  the  malignant.  Proof  was  produced  of 
marriages  celebrated  by  civil  magistrates,  and  the 
system  of  colonial  church  discipline,  proceedings 
which  were  at  variance  with  the  laws  of  England. 
Such  a  departure  from  the  long  established  laws  of 
England  alarmed  the  archbishops,  who  began  to 
regard  it  as  an  affair  of  state,  and  early  in  1634  a 
ship  bound  with  passengers  for  New  England  was 
detained  at  the  Thames  by  an  order  of  the  council. 
Still  more  menacing  was  the  appointment  of  an 
arbitrary  special  commission  for  the  colonies. 
Hitherto  their  affairs  had  been  confided  to  the  privy 
council.  In  April,  William  Laud,  Archbishop  of 
York,  and  ten  of  the  highest  officers  of  state  were 
invested  with  full  powers  to  make  laws  and  orders 


356  THE   PILGRIMS. 

for  the  government  of  English,  colonies  planted  in 
foreign  parts,  to  appoint  judges  and  magistrates, 
and  establish  courts  for  civil  and  ecclesiastical  af 
fairs,  to  regulate  the  church,  to  impose  penalties 
and  imprisonment  for  offences  in  ecclesiastical  mat 
ters,  to  remove  governors  and  require  an  account 
of  their  government,  to  determine  all  appeals  from 
the  colonies  and  revoke  all  charters  and  patents 
which  had  been  surreptitiously  obtained,  or  which 
conceded  liberties  prejudicial  to  the  royal  preroga 
tive.  Craddock  was  charged  to  deliver  in  the  pa 
tent  of  Massachusetts,  and  he  wrote  to  the  governor 
and  council  to  send  it  home;  but  on  receipt  of  his 
letter  they  resolved  to  make  no  response  to  the 
demand.  In  September,  a  copy  of  the  commission 
of  Archbishop  Laud  and  his  associates  was  brought 
to  Boston,  and  it  was  at  the  same  time  rumored 
that  the  colonists  would  be  compelled  by  force  to 
accept  a  new  governor,  the  discipline  of  the  Church 
of  England,  and  the  laws  of  the  commissioners. 
The  people  of  Massachusetts  had  too  long  breathed 
the  free  air  of  America  to  tolerate  oppression. 
Weak  as  they  were,  they  resolved  to  do  just  what 
their  descendants  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  later 
did — resist  the  tyrannical  measure.  They  strength 
ened  their  fortification,  and  the  ministers  assem 
bling  in  Boston  unanimously  declared  against  the 
reception  of  a  general  governor.  They  said: 


CONCLUSION.  357 

"  We  ought  to  defend  our  lawful  possessions  if 
we  are  able;  if  not,  to  avoid  and  protect." 

Laud  and  his  associates  esteemed  the  inhabitants 
of  Massachusetts  to  be  men  of  refractory  humors; 
complaints  resounded  of  sects  and  schisms,  of  par- 
tics  consenting  in  nothing  but  hostility  to  the 
Church  of  England,  of  designs  to  shake  off  the 
royal  jurisdiction.  Restraints  were  therefore  placed 
upon  emigration;  no  one  above  the  rank  of  serving- 
man  might  remove  to  the  colony,  without  the 
special  leave  of  the  commissioners,  and  persons  of 
inferior  order  were  required  to  take  oaths  of  supre 
macy  and  allegiance. 

Though  the  colonists  were  threatened  of  their 
liberties,  they  preserved  them.  They  evinced  a 
determination  which,  if  it  did  not  awe,  at  least 
caused  their  enemies  to  pause.  Already  the  ideas 
of  King  Charles  I.  on  the  divine  rights  of  kings 
had  begun  to  involve  him  in  trouble  with  his  sub 
jects  at  home,  and  he  could  pay  little  attention  to 
his  saucy  colonists  in  the  wilds  of  North  America. 
Despite  the  high-handed  course  attempted  by  Laud, 
the  Colony  prospered,  legislation  was  improved, 
and  courts  extended;  while  three  thousand  settlers 
arrived.  In  1639,  another  demand  for  the  charter 
was  made  in  peremptory  terms,  and,  after  a  long 
pause,  the  court  sent  the  Commissioners  of  Trade  a 
firm  but  diplomatic  refusal  by  the  hand  of  Win- 


358  THE   PILGRIMS. 

throp;  but  by  this  time  the  troubles  at  home  were 
attracting  all  the  attention  of  the  enemies  of  the 
colonies.  The  Puritan  party,  rising  rapidly  in 
power,  no  longer  looked  to  America  for  a  refuge. 
True,  the  great  tide  of  emigration  ceased  to  flow ; 
but  the  government  of  Massachusetts,  under  the 
alternating  rule  of  Winthrop,  Dudley,  and  Belling- 
ham,  went  on  wisely  and  strongly. 

The  increasing  troubles  in  England,  which  never 
ceased  until  Charles  I.  lost  his  throne  and  his  head, 
crippled  the  holders  of  the  Mason  and  Gorges  grants, 
and  the  settlements  in  Now  Hampshire,  whither 
Wheelwright  had  gone,  and  where  turbulence  had 
reigned,  were  gradually  added  to  the  jurisdiction 
of  Massachusetts.  In  domestic  matters  everything 
went  smoothly.  There  was  some  trouble  with 
Bellingham,  and  Winthrop  succeeded  as  governor. 
The  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  king  taken  by  the 
magistrates  was  abandoned,  because  Charles  had 
violated  the  privileges  of  Parliament,  and  the  last 
vestige  of  dependence  vanished.  Already  the 
American  eagle  had  begun  to  plume  her  wings  for 
the  long  flight  of  liberty.  Massachusetts  was  di 
vided  into  counties,  and  out  of  a  ludicrous  contest 
about  a  stray  pig  in  which  the  deputies  and  magis 
trates  took  different  sides,  an  important  controver 
sy  arose  as  to  the  powers  of  deputies  and  assistants, 
resulting  in  the  division  of  the  legislature  into  two 


CONCLUSION.  359 

branches,  an  upper  and  lower  house,  improving 
the  political  system.  These  two  branches  are  pre 
served  in  the  legislatures  and  Congress  to-day, 
forming  the  Senate  and  the  House  of  Representa 
tives. 

About  this  time  a  more  important  event  occurred, 
marking  the  first  attempt  at  the  federal  system, 
which  more  than  a  century  later  became  the  central 
principle  in  the  formation  of  the  United  States. 
Menaces  of  the  Indians  and  the  Dutch  early  con 
vinced  Connecticut  and  New  Haven  that  some  sort 
of  union  of  the  English  was  necessary.  At  first, 
Massachusetts  was  lukewarm;  but,  at  last,  com 
missioners  from  Connecticut,  Plymouth,  and  New 
Haven  came  to  Boston,  and  a  New  England  con 
federation  was  formed.  This  confederacy  excluded 
Rhode  Island  and  the  Gorges  settlements  in  Maine, 
and  provided  for  little  more  than  an  alliance  offen 
sive  and  defensive,  with  powers  to  make  war  and 
peace,  under  the  name  of  the  United  Colonies  of 
New  England,  increasing  their  power  and  giving 
themselves  confidence  in  each  other,  as  they 
marched  shoulder  to  shoulder  through  the  ages 
to  liberty. 

Those  whose  fortunes  we  have  followed  through 
out  this  story  enjoyed  that  long  peace  which  was 
the  result  of  their  courage  and  hardships,  and  they 
trained  their  children  to  grow  up  in  the  love  of  the 


360  THE   PILGRIMS. 

inestimable  liberties  of  which  they  had  only  re 
ceived  a  taste.  They  were  a  great  nation  in 
embryo  before  they  landed  at  Plymouth  Rock. 
The  seed  of  the  nation  was  in  the  little  compact 
made  on  board  the  Mayflower^  in  which  there  was 
expressed  that  love  of  civil  and  religious  liberty 
inherent  in  every  son  and  daughter  of  North 
America. 


THE    END. 


HISTORICAL  INDEX. 


Adventures  in  the  forest 67 

Alden,  John,  a  cooper  from  London 59 

Alden's  wedding 188 

Anglican  church 17 

Arch'uishop  of  York,  Laud 355 

Argument  for  planting  at  Cape  Cod 80 

Ark,  TJie,  at  Barbadoes 299 

Arrival  of  De  Rasierie's  Commission  at  New  Plymouth.  162 

Arrival  of  Commissioners  in  Boston 356 

Avalon,  Baltimore  at 290 

Bacon,  Lord 39 

Ballot-box,  first  used  in  America 199 

Baltimore,  Lord,  death  of ;   succeeded  by  Cecil,  Lord 

Baltimore 295 

Baltimore  piously  decides  to  provide  an  asylum  for 

persecuted  Catholics 290 

Baltimore's  patent  for  lands  south  of  James  River 294 

Billington's  child  lost 108 

Billingtons,  father  and  son 56 

Billington,  Francis,  punished  for  insubordination....  159 

Billington,  John,  endangers  TJie  Mayfloii'er 81 

Billington,  John,  hung  for  murder 245 

Block,  Adrien,  captain  of  Tigressin  New  York  Harbor.  123 

Block  Island,  Indians  on,  attacked 220 

Board  of  Lords  Commissioners   of  American   planta 
tions  appointed  by  Charles  1 137 

Boston  founded,  September  7,  1630 191 

3G1 


362  HISTORICAL   INDEX. 

PAGE 

Bradford  caught  in  a  trap 72 

Bradford,  William,  chosen  second  governor  of  the  Pil 
grims 100 

Brewster,  William 4 

Brewster  preaches  his  last  sermon  on  T he  Mayflower ..     89 

Butten,  William,  dies  on  voyage 62 

Calvert,  Leonard,  first  governor  of  Maryland 297 

Calvert  at  Jamestown 300 

Calvert's  Colony  on  the  Potomac 305 

Calvert  purchases  land  from  the  Indians 308 

Cape  Cod,  Pilgrims  in  sight  of 62 

Carver  and  Cushmau  chosen  to  go  to  England  and  take 
with  them  the  seven  articles  from  the  church 

at  Leyden 37 

Carver  chosen  governor  ;   his  death 100 

Carver  receives  letter  from  Robinson 59 

Charlestown,  Mass. ,  founded 190 

Charter  for  Maryland 229 

Charter  for  the  New  Netherland 125 

Charter  of  Massachusetts  ordered  to  be  delivered  up. . .  356 

Charles  I.  involved  in  trouble  at  home 357 

Colonists  threatened  of  their  liberties 357 

Commissioners  appointed  for  Massachusetts 355 

Compact  of  Pilgrims 63 

Connecticut  granted  to  Earl  of  Warwick 167 

Connecticut  River  discovered 124 

Connecticut  declares  war  against  Pequods 244 

Coppin,  Robert,  tells  the  Pilgrims  of  a  suitable  place 

for  planting 81 

Cotton,  John,  arrives  in  New  England  in  1633 197 

Cotton  opposes  Williams 203 

Cummaquid,  Pilgrims  at 110 

Davenport,  Rev.  John,  arrives  in  Boston 262 

Davenport's  colony  framing  constitution  on  the  scrip 
tures  . .  .265 


HISTORICAL   INDEX.  868 

PAOE 

Death  of  Rose  Standish 104 

De  Rasierie's  description  of  New  Plymouth  and  the 

worship  of  the  Pilgrims 165 

Dernier  orders  the  Dutch  from  Manhattan 127 

Destruction  of  The  Tigress 123 

Discoveries  in  Indian  mounds 76,  77,  78 

Discoveries  of  Pilgrims  on  shore 70 

Dorchester  Company  try  to  establish  a  colony  at  Cape 

Ann 190 

Dorchester  founded,  Sept.  7,  1630 191 

Dove,  The,  returns  to  The  Ark 300 

Dutch  seek  to  have  Pilgrims  emigrate  under  them  ....     36 

Dutch  Point  fortified 157 

Dutch  West  India  Company 122 

Dutch  West  India  Company  take  possession  of  Con 
necticut  156 

Dutch  governor  sends  a  friendly  messenger  to  Governor 

Bradford 158 

Dutch  treaty  with  Five  Nations 126 

Eaton,  Theophalus 262 

Eaton,  Theophalus,  elected  first  magistrate  of  Quinni- 

piac 266 

English  at  Micomoco 307 

English  colony  planted  in  the  valley  of  Connecticut. . .   166 

English  in  Connecticut 219 

English  trespassing  on  the  Dutch 268 

Endicott,  commander  of  first  expedition  against  Block 

Island 212 

Escape  of  the  Pilgrims  from  England 13 

Expedition  to  Nanset  far  the  lost  boy 109 

Fort  Amsterdam 131 

Fort  Good  Hope  built 168 

Fort  Orange 131 

Freemen's  oath 203 

Freemen  of  Massachusetts  choose  deputies 198 


364  HISTORICAL   INDEX. 

PAGE 

Gorges  grant 134 

Harvard  College  founded  by  John  Harvard,  1633 210 

Hartford  Convention  in  1639 269 

Harvey,    governor  of  Virginia,    orders  Baltimore  to 

leave  his  territory. . 293 

Haynes  arrives  in  Massachusetts 197 

Holland  a  place  of  refuge  for  the  Pilgrims 20 

Houses  of  the  Pilgrims 105 

Housatonic 'River  discovered 124 

Hooker's  colony  emigrates  to  Connecticut 197 

Humber,  the  Pilgrims  at. . 5 

Holmes,    William,    planting   in  Connecticut  at   Fort 

Good  Hope 226 

Hopkins,  Edward,  arrived  at  Boston 262 

Hunt  kidnaps  Indians  in  America 35 

Hutchinson,  Anna,  murdered  by  Indians 250 

Indians  attack  the  Pilgrims 85 

Indian  depredations  in  Connecticut 220 

Indian  houses  discovered 79 

Investments  of  Pilgrims  at  Southampton 53 

Jones,    captain  of   The   JMayfloicer,    accompanies  the 
second  expedition  of  Pilgrims  on  shore  at  Cape 

Cod 74 

King  James,  charter  of 19 

Laud,  Archbishop  of  York 355 

Land  of  steady  habits 270 

Landing  of  the  Pilgrims 87 

Laud,  threatens  the  colonists  of  their  liberties 357 

Love  story  of  Miles  Standish 172 

Lynn,  Massachusetts,  founded 190 

Manhattan  Island  purchased  of  the  Indians  for  twenty- 
four  dollars 131 

Maryland  has  a  representative  government  in  1C39  ....  309 

Maryland,  how  chartered  and  named 295 

Massasoit  the  sagamore 98 


HISTORICAL   INDEX.  365 

PAGE 

Massacre  of  the  Pequods 256 

Massachusetts  colony  in  trouble 355 

Mason  and  Gorges  grants 134 

Mason  and  Gorges  grants  weakened 358 

Mason  attacks  the  Pequod  fort 255 

Mason  at  Hartford 251 

Mason,  Captain  John,  commander  of  the  whites  in 

Connecticut 244 

Matchlock,  the : 9 

Mayflower  at  Southampton 52 

Mayflower  sails  with  Pilgrims,  Sept.  6,  1620 61 

Mayflower  compact 63 

Miles  Standish 58 

Miles  Standisli  and  men  set  out  to  explore  the  country.  67 
Miles  Standish  and  party  set  out  to  discover  a  suitable 

place  for  planting 83 

Miles  Standish  chosen  captain  of  Pilgrims 94 

Miles  Standish' s  second  expedition 74 

Murder,  the  first  in  New  England 244 

Narragan setts  and  Niantucks  join  the  English 252 

New  Amsterdam 131 

New  England  Confederation 359 

New  England  named  by  Captain  John  Smith 36 

New  Foundland,  Baltimore  at 292 

New  Hampshire 135 

New  Haven  formed  from  the  state  of  Quinnipiac  in  1640.  267 

North  Virginia  Company  seeks  a  new  patent 47 

Oldham,  John,  killed  by  Pequods 211 

Orange,  Fort 131 

Order  of  punishment  of  Roger  Williams 204 

Patent  granted  to  Pilgrims 46 

Patuxet 97 

Pequods  defeated  at  Groton 256 

Pequod  Indians  on  Block  Island,  hostilities  against. . .  211 
Pequods  jealous  of  English 219 


366  HISTORICAL   INDEX. 

PAGE 

Pequod,  the  last 259 

Pequod  war  begins 244 

Pilgrims  at  Leyden 34 

Pilgrims  begin  to  build 90 

Pilgrims'  contract  with  London  merchants 47 

Pilgrims  leave  Leyden  and  reach  Delfshaven 50 

Pilgrims'  petition  to  king  for  liberty  of  religion 38 

Pilgrims  seeking  fuel 65 

Pilgrims  set  sail,  August  5th,  and  return 59 

Pilgrims'  watch-fire 71 

Piscataways,  Calvert's  treaty  with 306 

Plague  in  New  England,  in  1617 36 

Plantation  covenant  of  Davenport 263 

Plymouth  Company  get  a  new  charter 128 

Plymouth  Rock 87 

Providence  founded 209 

Puritans  outwitting  the  Dutch  for  possessions  in  Con 
necticut  225 

Puritan,  term  have  originated 16 

Quinnipiac 262 

Quinuipiac  changed  to  New  Foundland 267 

Quitting  Holland 50 

Reformation  in  England 16 

Reinolds,  master  of  The  Speedicell 52 

Rhode  Island  founded 209 

Robinson,  John,  favors  emigration  to  the  Hudson 46 

Robinson,  John,  the  Puritan  preacher 4 

Robinson's  last  charge  to  Pilgrims 51 

Robinson  to  remain  at  Leyden 48 

St.  Mary's,  town  of,  laid  out 308 

Samoset  appears  to  Pilgrims 96 

Sandys,  Sir  Edwyn,  treasurer  of  London  Company ....  45 

Sassacus  at  Groton 256 

Sassacus,  chief  of  the  Pequods 219 

Sassacus,  death  of 258 


HISTORICAL    INDEX.  367 

PAGE 

Separatist,  how  originated 18 

Smith  and  Hunt  on  the  New  England  coast 85 

Southampton,  Pilgrims  at 52 

Speedwell  leaking 52 

Speedwell  abandoned 60 

Squanto  the  Patuxet 98 

Thames  River  discovered 124 

Town  house  takes  fire 92 

Treaty  between  Pilgrims  and  Massasoit 99 

Uncas,  the  friend  of  the  white  people 244 

Uncas  made  chief 259 

Underbill,  Captain  John 244 

Underbill  sent  to  attack  the  Pequods  at  Groton 256 

Van  Twiller,  the  Dutch  Governor  of  New  Netherland  267 

Virginia,  Baltimore  in 292 

Voyages  of  The  Ark  and  Dove 297 

Walloons 130 

Warwick  conveys  his  chartered  rights  to  Connecticut 

to  Lords  Say,  Seale,  Brooke  et  al. ,  in  1632. . . .  168 

Watertown  founded,  September  7th,  1630 191 

White,  William,  death  of Ill 

White's,  Father,  description  of  Potomac 305 

Whitgift  forbids  preaching 17 

Williams,   Roger,  arrives  in  Massachusetts,  March  5th, 

1631 191 

Williams,  Roger,  sketch  of 192 

Williams  among  the  Indians. .    208 

Williams  among  the  Narragansetts 230 

Williams  banished  ;  order  of  banishment 204 

Williams  called  as  pastor  of  Salem  ;    withdraws  and 

goes  to  Plymouth 194 

Williams  founds  Rhode  Island 209 

Williams  resolves  to  prevent  the  Narragansetts  from 

uniting  with  the  Pequods 228 

Williams  before  Miantanomoh. .                                       .  234 


368  HISTORICAL   INDEX. 

PAGE 

Williams'  second  call  to  Salem 200 

Williams'  trouble  with  the  church 201 

Windows  of  the  Pilgrims 247 

Wives  and  children  of  the  Pilgrims  seized  by   the 

King's  horse 15 

Wives  and  children  of  Pilgrims  released 21 

Wood,  fuel  of  Mayflower,  scarce 63 


CHRONOLOGY. 


PERIOD  V.— AGE   OF  REASON. 
A.D.   1620  TO  A.D.   1643. 

1620.  GREAT  PATENT  granted  to  Plymouth  Company,  40° 

to  48°  lat.,  and  ocean  to  ocean, — Nov.  3. 
PLYMOUTH,  MASS.,  settled  by  the  Puritans, — Dec. 
11.     (Compact  signed  on  the  Mayflower  before 
landing, — Nov.  11.) 

1621.  TREATY  WITH  MASSASOIT,    chief  of  the  Warn  pa  - 

noags,  which  was  the  beginning  of  fifty  years 
of  peace,  — March  22. 

1622.  GORGES  AND  MASON'S  GRANT  between  the   Merri- 

mac  and  Kennebec  rivers. 

OPECHANCANOUGH'S  WAR  ;  first  Indian  massacre  in 
Virginia  ;  347  whites  killed, — March  22. 

1623.  PORTSMOUTH  AND  DOVER,  N.  H.,  settled  by  Gorges 

and  Mason. 

1625.  ACCESSION  OF  CHARLES  I.    to  the  throne  of  Eng 
land,— March  27. 

1628.  ENDICOTT'S  GRANT  from  the  Plymouth  Company, 
from  three  miles  south  of  the  Charles  River 
to  three  miles  north  of  the  Merrimac  River, 
and  from  ocean  to  ocean, — March  19. 
SALEM,  MASS.,  settled  by  the  Massachusetts  Bay 
Company;  Gov.  John  Endicott, — Sept.  6. 
369 


370  CHRONOLOGY. 

1  629.  ORDER  OF  PATROONS  founded  by  the  Dutch  in  New 
Netherlands. 

1630.  WARWICK'S    GRANT,     "westward  from   Narragan- 

sett  River,   120  miles  along  the  coast,  west  to 
the  Pacific  Ocean. " 
BOSTON  founded  by  Wiuthrop. 

1631.  WARWICK'S    GRANT    transferred    to     Lords    Say, 

Brooke,  and  others,  — March  10. 
MASON  named  his  grant  New  Hampshire. 
GORGES  named  his  grant  Maine. 

1632.  MARYLAND  granted  to  Lord  Baltimore. 

1633.  WINDSOR,  CONN.,  settled  by  William  Holmes,  from 

Plymouth,  Mass. 

1634.  MARYLAND    settled    at  St.    Mary's   by  Calvert, — 

March  27. 

1636.  PROVIDENCE,  R.  I.,  founded  by  Roger  Williams. 

1637.  PEQUOD  WAR  in  Connecticut, — First  Indian  war  in 

New  England. 

1638.  DELAWARE  settled  near  Wilmington    by  Swedes 

and  Finns, — New  Sweden. 

NEW  HAVEN,  CONN.,  settled  by  Eaton  and  Daven 
port, — April  18. 

HARVARD  COLLEGE  founded  by  bequest  of  John 
Harvard,  at  Cambridge,  Mass., — Sept.  14. 

1639.  FIRST  PRINTING-PRESS  in  America,  at  Cambridge, 

Mass. , — January. 

1641.  NEW  HAMPSHIRE  settlements  united  to  Massachu 
setts. 

1643.  UNITED  COLONIES  of  New  England  formed,— 
May  19. 


THE 


COLUMBIAN   HISTORICAL   NOVELS. 


A  Complete  History  of  Our  Country,  from  the  Time  of  Columbus 
down  to  the  present  Day,  in  the  form  of  Twelve  Complete 
Stories.     By  JOHN  R.  MUSICK.      Uniform  Size  and 
Style;  8vo,  Half  Morocco,  and  Cloth  Bind 
ings,  One  Hundred  Half-Tone  Plates, 
Maps  of  the  Period,  and  numer 
ous  Pen  and  Ink  Drawings 
by  F.  A.  Carter. 

TIT1-ES  : 

Vol.         I.  Columbia:     A  Story  of  the  Discovery  of  America. 

Vol.       II.  Estevan  :     A  .Story  of  the  Spanish  Conquests. 

Vol.     III.  St.  Augustine  :     A  Story  of  the  Huguenots. 

Vol.      IV.  Pocahontas:     A  Story  of  Virginia. 

Vol.       V.  The  Pilgrims:     A  Story  of  Massachusetts. 

Vol.     VI.  A  Century  Too  Soon:     A  Story  of  Bacon's  Rebellion. 

Vol.    VII.  The  Witch  of  Salem  ,  or,  Credulity  Run  Mad. 

Vol.  VIII.  Hraddock :     A  Story  of  the  French  and  Indian  Wars. 

Vol.     IX.  Independence:     A  Story  of  the  American  Revolution. 

Vol.       X.  Sustained  Honor:     A  Story  of  the  War  of  1812. 

Vol.     XI.  Humbled  Pride:     A  Story  of  the  Mexican  War. 

Vol.  XII.  Union:     A  Story  of  the  Great  Rebellion  and  of  Events 
down  to  the  Present  Day. 


The  Historical  Divisions  are :  ist.  Age  of  Discovery  ;  2d. 
Conquest ;  3d.  Bigotry  ;  4th.  Colonization  ;  5th.  Reason  ;  6th. 
Tyranny  ;  ~th.  Superstition  ;  8th.  Contention  of  Powers  for 
Supremacy  ;  gth.  Independence ;  loth.  Liberty  Established  ; 
nth.  Supremacy  Abroad;  I2th.  Union. 


FUNK    &    WAQNALLS    COflPANY,    Publishers, 

30  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 

LONDON:  TORONTO,  CAN.: 

44  Fleet  Street.  n  Richmond  St.,  W. 


DATE  DUE 


A     000554514     o 


